


As We Should Be

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-14
Updated: 2009-12-14
Packaged: 2017-10-28 04:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 64,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/303956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years since Sam and Dean have seen each other; a fight that separated them unresolved. But eight years later, Dean shows up on Sam's doorstep with a child in tow and a case he needs his brother's help on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The clock on the wall seemed to tick in slow motion, but then again, it always did for the last half hour in which Dean knew Sam was out of school and was making the walk home. More often than not he preferred to pick him up but Sam complained that it was no longer cool to be seen constantly getting rides. It just made it more obvious that he didn't have a car of his own like all the other seniors in his school. Dean would have offered to let Sam use his car but that would make Sam look at him strangely and possibly ask questions that Dean wasn't ready to answer. After all, he could never lie to Sam. It was impossible.

When it _finally_ reached almost three o'clock, Dean pushed up from the chair he'd been stiffly sitting in for the past hour and headed toward the window, eyes scanning down the street. He could make out Sam a few houses down, walking with his head down, kicking at rocks every few steps. The long, shaggy brown mop that was getting far too long - though Dean secretly loved the look on him - hung in front of his face, swaying slightly with each step. Dean watched him adjust the strap on his shoulder, fingers curling under the fabric. Dean knew his brother so well he could probably have read his mind as he thought over the assignments for the day, the homework he had left to finish up before tomorrow. Sam was far too into school for Dean's taste but it was one of the things that made them different and Dean treasured it as a little beacon of hope.

It meant Sam was made for more than this. Dean would always be a high school drop out with a GED but Sam, Sam could _make_ something out of himself. Even if that meant Dean had to let him go. He resolutely shoved away the selfish part of him that wanted to pull the man Sam had become close and hold him tight, keep him from the rest of the world. No matter what Dean tried to ignore though, it couldn't stop the quickening beat of his heart as Sam approached their place, pausing at the mailbox and leaning down to retrieve the inside contents. Sam's head lifted up slightly as he flipped through the meager contents, and Dean watched with curiously arched eyebrows as Sam slipped a finger under the envelope and tore across, pulling out a folded letter a moment later.

The look on Sam's face shifted into confusion then something just... blank. Dean couldn't figure out what could possibly be on that paper to make Sam look so stunned. His features drew together and he considered stepping outside and asking what was up but that would mean confessing he was watching his little brother like some creepy stalker and well... again with the questions. No, Dean would wait. Sam would tell him anyway. For a moment he lifted his hand and pressed it to the glass, wishing there wasn't a house, a stretch of dried up lawn, and a whole collection of inappropriate and immoral thoughts separating them. It would never be that way though, there would always be those last things, and with a soft sigh Dean let his hand fall to his side as he stepped back and moved to the table, waiting for Sam to come inside.

Sam stood looking at the letter in his hand for a while, then spun quickly and raced up the sidewalk slamming through the front door and skidding to a halt just inside the door. "Dean!?" Sam tossed his bag on the couch, and hopped around for a few minutes tugging his boots off. On his final spin around he noticed Dean sitting at the dining room table, back to his brother. Sam dropped his second boot on the floor and studied his brother's broad shoulders. He chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully; Dean was obviously distracted by something. Normally he'd be pushing up off his chair and tossing out a casual, "Sammy!" and asking about his day. Shaking it off, Sam padded over to Dean, letter still clutched in his hand. He tousled Dean's soft, dirty blond hair as he walked behind him to open the fridge. He rooted around in the fridge for a few moments and came out with two beers, shut the door with his hip and sat down at the table. He slid one of the bottles in front of Dean watching his brother's freckled cheeks tighten. A smile grew on Sam's face; Dean was going to give him a lecture about the beer. He knew his brother like the back of his hand.

"Dean? I have something to show you." Sam grinned and kicked at Dean's foot under the table, "and don't give me shit for drinking beer until you read it." Sam was practically vibrating on his chair, knee bouncing up and down, fingers tapping on the table. Dean, on the other hand, was still. "Dean?" Dean looked tired. He worked too hard so Sam could stay in school without a part-time job. Dean did a lot of things so that Sam wouldn't have to do them. Every now and again it caught up with his older brother and left him looking a little haggard. Not that it didn’t suit him. Dean could pull of disheveled and tired better than any guy Sam knew. Sam was sure he'd never be that kind of guy.

"Sorry, distracted," Dean grumbled softly and reached out for the letter. He didn't have to know his brother at all to know that he was excited. Sam was practically buzzing with the thrill of... well, whatever was on the letter. As he pulled the piece of paper close words flashed across his eyes. Words like 'Stanford' and 'congratulations' and 'accepted.' Dean's heart sank so hard and so fast he wondered if it was going to even be able to continue beating. Somehow it did though, and the seconds were ticking by along with the bounce of Sam's leg. Dean dragged his eyes up and tried to swallow the rise of bile even as he forced a grin onto his face and pushed the words out of his lips. "Hey, wow. You got in. Wow that's... damn Sammy, that's _huge_." This time his smile morphed into something more genuine and he ignored the ache, let himself be happy for Sam. After the life they had, well, Sam deserved this. "Congrats man. That's just... fantastic." He reached out - letting the paper flutter to the table between them - and slapped his brother cheerfully on the side of his arm.

Unable to contain himself any longer Sam pushed up from the table and threw his arms around Dean's neck. "It's great right?" He squeezed Dean close. _It's great right?_ which really meant, _Jesus, I'll miss you, Dean. More than I can tell you._ But there were things that Sam needed to do and one of them was to get out from under the shadow of his big brother, in more ways than one.

That twisting stomach, sinking heart feeling only intensified and Dean pushed up from the chair with his brother's arms still around him. He shifted them so he could wrap his arms around Sam's back and hold him tight. It hit him that he needed to just get over this melancholy because god, it wasn't as if Sam was leaving _right this second._ "Yeah Sam, it's great," he said softly and squeezed him rougher than necessary.

Laughing, Sam shoved Dean hard, "Ouch... jeez, so can we have the beer?" He grinned at Dean, bobbing his head back and forth a few times, eyebrows raised hopefully. Dean had _that_ look on his face - the one that meant Sam was going to get his way. He'd seen it enough times to recognize it. "C'mon," he bumped his shoulder against Dean's as he turned to pick up the beers again and hand one to Dean. "We can even drink it in our bedroom in case Dad comes home early. Not like he ever does..." he muttered the last part.

With a resigned sigh Dean curled his fingers around the bottle and ignored the brush of his fingers against Sam's. "Alright, it's a celebratory drink but you take all the blame if Dad catches us." This has him chuckling because it's unlikely their Dad would catch them and even more unlikely that Sam would take the blame for it. He followed Sam into their bedroom, kicking off his shoes and dropping down onto the mattress before twisting off the cap and bringing the bottle to his lips to pull long from it. He was really going to need this drink if he was going to be able to handle this.

Sam flopped down beside Dean, leaning back against the headboard, "no point in messing up _my_ bed too," he said when Dean shot a look at him. Laughing, Sam got comfortable and kicked his feet up into Dean's lap. Dad wasn't around to give him shit for being too _touchy feeling_ with his brother. Sam didn't know why the hell it was even an issue. They were brothers. "So - it's good... Dean," Sam's grin broadened, "it's a full scholarship - you know what that means? Shit!" The full impact of it was starting to hit him.

"I think I get it," Dean nodded and let his hand drop to Sam's ankle, working the flesh between his fingers. Touching Sam was like a guilty pleasure and now that he knew his time doing it was limited, well... Dean didn't see why he couldn't indulge every now and again. "That means they'll pay for dorms and stuff too huh? So you won't have to work while you're there? I could still send you some money once a month, to make sure you're covered."

"Or," Sam took a long draw on his beer bottle, "you could spend some of it on yourself. Take a trip, dude! Take... a girl out on a nice date." His smile faded a little, and then he shoved Dean gently with his foot. "You could go to Disneyland; I know how much you like that Pluto guy." He smiled at his brother from under his mess of hair and kicked at him one last time. "I don't need you to take care of me man."

"Don't want to do any of that stuff," Dean shook his head and glanced over at Sam. "Besides the taking care of you thing." It probably wasn't the smartest thing to say to Sam. His brother knew him just as well as he knew Sam and chances were he'd put the pieces together or at least have questions if Dean continued down this path. So he added lamely, "It's what brother's do right? Look after each other."

Sam chuckled softly, "not when they get accepted to Stanford!!!" He slammed his beer down on the bedside table and leaped forward, tackling Dean. He knew that Dean was at a disadvantage because he wouldn't want to spill the beer on his own bed. Sam moved quickly, Dean had taught him well, and managed to get Dean in a headlock. "See?" He grunted, struggling to hang on to Dean, "can take care of myself."

With a quick huff, Dean struggled against his brother and shifted just enough to extend his arm and put the bottle down. "Easy when you're..." he grunted and curled his arm around Sam, struggling for a moment before flipping the man down and pinning him to the bed, legs sliding to straddle the man's hips as his chest fell forward, arm extended and pressing Sam's into the pillow above his head. "Working with someone disadvantaged." He finished and the words were whispered, falling between slightly panting breaths. Dean was suddenly all too aware of his body pressed flush against Sam's, of the way their crotches were almost touching, his face hovering inches above Sam's. _Not good._ His mind chanted even as his tongue came out to drag across his lips. "Sam..." he breathed his brother's name, trying to keep his lips from dipping down even as he knew it was too late. It was like a now-or-never moment and Dean prepared himself for the rejection even as his lips closed the space between them.

A burst of warmth shot through Sam's body when Dean's lips pressed down against his. Dean's lips were softer than Sam expected, _not_ that he'd thought about it. His mouth opened almost automatically as he felt the warm, wetness of Dean's lips and his eyes drifted closed. Sam's fingers curled into Dean's hand for a few moments and then everything came crashing down on him. Sam yanked his mouth away from Dean's and shoved at his brother with his hand. "What the... Dean?" Sam lay there, under Dean's body - completely aware of Dean's body and wondered what the hell had just happened between them.

Well. Fuck. This wasn't good. Dean clambered off the bed and dragged his hands up in his hair, tugging sharply. "Shit." He breathed, torn between a thousand things at once. He didn't know whether he should flee the room or turned to Sam and ask for forgiveness. In the end he settled with just waiting it out. Maybe Sam would let it drop and they could shove it under the carpet and Dean could go drown himself in the shower and dwell on that fact that he was a major ass pervert for having a crush on his baby brother. If it hadn't been sealed before, Dean would _totally_ be going to hell for this.

Sam swallowed and pushed up on his elbows. He gaped at Dean, watching his brother's jaw tighten as the muscles in his neck corded with tension. "Shit?" Sam's mouth stayed open after he spoke, eyes blinking. "Shit?" He echoed.

"What do you want me to say?" Dean turned to him, arms rising slightly. "I'm sorry for kissing you? Cause I'm not..." Dean trailed off, dropping his arms before looking quickly back up at his brother. "Going to. Say that. Say you know, anything. Anymore." He sighed heavily and crossed to Sam's bed, dropping down onto it heavily.

"Shit." Sam pushed up off Dean's bed like it was on fire, and then stood awkwardly in between the two mattresses. His heart was racing in his chest and all of Sam's nerve-endings seemed to be firing at once. He ran a hand through his hair and then scratched the back of his head. "Dean..." He sat back down on the edge of Dean's bed. "Dean? What was... that?" Sam's tongue slipped out to sweep quickly across his bottom lip; he could still taste his brother's mouth.

Dean sighed long and suffering. Apparently Sam wasn't going to make this easy on him. "You know what it was. Can we just... not talk about it? Please? Obviously you're freaked so we'll just... I'll just..." Dean pushed up and slid sideways. "I should shower."

"Shower?" Sam crossed his ankles and realized he was only managing to parrot back almost everything Dean said. "You... you can't do that and then not talk. This isn't one of those, _Sam you over-think things_ moments." He stared wide-eyed at Dean.

 _Folding his arms across his chest, Dean shuffled his feet along the ground before slowly dragging up his head and glancing toward Sam. "What am I supposed to say? I... I kissed you. It happened. It won't again. End of story."_

 _"That's what you want? That's your final word on it." Sam's eyes burned into Dean's. This was one of those times he was going to _make_ Dean be the one who decided what they talked about. Sam was tired of trying to pull information out of his brother and if he were to be perfectly honest Sam wasn't even sure he knew _what_ he felt about the kiss. His eyes softened as he looked at Dean's hands, they were clenched so tightly at his sides that his knuckles were white. "It's okay, Dean, go have your shower." Sam tore his eyes away from his brother and looked down at his sock feet._

Considering Sam for a long, quiet moment, Dean gave a short nod before turning and leaving the room. He probably should have stayed, should have worked up the strength to tell Sam all the feelings and thoughts he'd been harboring secretly for the past few _years_ but he couldn't. It was too much, too personal, and if Dean exposed it than it would just be hanging there between them. It would alter their relationship forever and - judging from Sam's reaction to the kiss - not in the way Dean would have liked. So it was much more simple to step beneath the shower spray and let it rain down on him until the water faded from burning hot to freezing cold and his lips didn't tingle so strong from the brief touch.

By the time he headed back to the bedroom Sam was in the living room. Dean could hear the low hum of the TV. He took his time dressing, even if it was just a shirt, boxers and sweat pants. Luckily he could head to the kitchen and work on dinner next so he didn't have to face Sam right away. There really was no logical excuse for his behavior with Sam. Here his brother was, thrilled over receiving the best news he possibly could have gotten only to have Dean ruin it by caving in to some secret desire he'd been harboring in which he made out with his _brother_ and did... well... other stuff.

Dean decided to make Sam's favorite meal for dinner, hoping to mend some of the pieces he'd broken. He was quiet the entire time he cooked - only stealing occasional glances at Sam - and didn't say a word until the food was settled on the table and he called for the man to come eat. The meal was just as silent and Dean stared at his plate, mental kicking himself on repeat for being so stupid. Finally, half way through his portion, Dean dragged his eyes up. "I'm sorry Sam. You just got the best news of your life; I didn't mean to ruin it by being so selfish." The words tumbled out before he can rethink them and he sighed, stabbing his fork into the food.

Sam shrugged, "It doesn't matter." Picking up his fork his pushed his potato around on his plate. Dean made special mashed potato that Sam loved; Dean said it had some secret ingredient in it but Sam knew it was garlic and cream instead of milk. He'd never let Dean in on the fact that he knew the secret, he'd never take that away from Dean. Sam had been watching Dean his whole life. These little things that Dean did that made Sam happy - they were some of the most important things in the world to Dean. Sam didn't always get it, he figured it must be a big brother thing - but he wasn't going to mess with it. "Thanks for..." he gestured with his fork towards his plate.

"Least I can do," Dean lifted his shoulder and pushed the food around on his plate. He wasn't really that hungry anyway. His stomach felt too unsettled for him to attempt to eat any more. So he pushed up from the table and carried his plate into the kitchen, scraping the food into the trash can before tossing the dish in the sink and turning on the faucet. Things were beginning to reach a level Dean couldn't be okay with. This was his brother and he couldn't let this stupid thing damage that. He couldn't _loose_ Sam. "Sam..." he said softly as he came back to the table, curling his fingers along the edge of the nearest chair. "Tell me what to say to make this better."

"Everything's fine." Sam shoveled some more food into his mouth and chewed so he didn't have to say anything else.

Dean sighed heavily and pushed back from the chair. "Sure, everything's fine. That's why you can't even look at me." Dean followed his arms across his chest and opened his mouth to say something more, stopping short when the door fell open, bringing in their Dad. Dean blinked at him in surprise. "Hey Dad, didn't think you'd be home so early."

John swept into the room in a clatter of bags and weapons, dumping them on the floor by the door. "Sammy, put these away when you get a chance son." He barely glanced over at the boys as he stood there rubbing his eyes for a few moments.

Sam pushed his plate away from him and wandered over to pick up his Dad's bags and took them down the hall to his father's room. Sometimes, Sam felt like nothing more than house help to his Dad. Dean said it was because their Dad couldn't relate to Sam... Sam was all about books and thinking and Dean, well, Dean was about fighting and moving and hunting. Sam wasn't sure what bugged him more - that hunting was never even considered something that he could do or that thinking was considered to be somehow _less_ important.

When Sam left the room John nodded at his eldest son, "everything good, Dean?"

"Yeah, everything's good." He nodded and crossed to the fridge, pulling out a beer and walking back toward his Dad, extending it to him. "You want some food? There's some left."

John huffed out a breath, "ya know, Dean, I'm just gonna get some rest - this was a bastard of a job. Sammy good? He seems even bitchier than usual?" John smiled softly, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"He's not," Dean defended automatically and cut off from saying any more when his dad's eyes drifted back up toward him. "Rough school day." He supplied with a shrug and glanced toward the hallway when Sam returned a few moments later. "See you in the morning?" He asked, eyes returning to their dad.

John nodded, a puzzled expression on his face. He'd _never_ understand his sons if he lived to be one hundred. "Night, Sammy," he threw over his shoulder as he walked down the hallway.

When Sam heard the click of his father's door shutting he looked over at Dean, and dropped his voice - a good impersonation of his father, "How was school, Sammy? Get accept into any schools, Sammy?" He stood there for a few moments staring at Dean. "And don't fuckin' defend him, Dean," Sam’s words sounded much sharper than he'd meant them too. He folded his arms and waited for Dean to give him shit.

Dean rolled his eyes and crossed to the table, gesturing to Sam's plate. "You done with this?" When Sam made no move, Dean curled his fingers around it and carried it to the kitchen. It wasn't until after he'd run the dish under the water that he spoke up. "You really think Dad's just gonna ask you if you got accepted to any schools? You know how he feels on the subject. Man didn't even put up a fight when I said I was dropping out, that's not where his priorities lie Sam."

Sam opened his mouth, thought about trying to fight with Dean and realized it was pointless. He was tired, and really all he had wanted was to spend the evening celebrating and it had all gone to shit. "Night, Dean." Without waiting for a reply Sam turned and padded down the hallway slamming the bedroom door behind him. There were so many times when Sam had done something good, and it had just disappeared in the Winchester household. Sam tugged his shirt off over his head and threw it against the wall, then shucked of his jeans and climbed into bed, huffed and pulled the sheets up over his head.

Taking his time to finish cleaning up the mess and drink a couple more beers, Dean didn't head to bed until after ten. It had been hours since Sam had gone in the room so he figured his brother was asleep, which really was for the best. It seemed almost impossible to believe that less than seven hours ago he'd been waiting so excitedly to see Sam. Then he had to go and fuck everything. Dean slipped off his sweat pants and tugged off his shirt, falling hard onto his bed and groaning quietly into the pillow. The whole stupid thing sucked and the only thing Dean could think was how much he hoped it would be better by the next day. Maybe he could buy Sam a cake - or pie - or _something_ that said congratulations on it and possible 'I'm sorry for kissing you cause I'm your brother and that's fucked up right?' He shifted on his mattress, climbing under the blankets and willing himself to fall asleep.

Sam waited until Dean's breathing evened out and slipped quietly out of bed. He stood in between their mattresses staring down at the tanned flesh of his brother's shoulder. He swallowed, and tugged Dean's covers down so he could climb in behind his brother. He moved quickly, afraid Dean would shove him away scooting up as close as he could to Dean's back and sliding his arm over Dean's broad chest.

Dean grunted slightly and turned his head on the pillow, eyes fluttering. "Mmwhat Sammy? Tryin' to sleep," he grumbled, pushing his side against his brother half heartedly. "Too warm."

Sam's body was trembling a little, the warmth of Dean's body doing things to his body that felt good and crazy at the same time. Sam curled close to his brother's hot skin and nuzzled into Dean's short hair. The scent was familiar and exciting at the same time and Sam's mouth parted in an almost silent moan. His body shuddered and he almost gave in and leapt out of the bed; he was a little scared of how good it felt, but _fuck_ , Dean had started this and Sam wanted to see... _why_ he hadn't been able to forget the mere seconds their lips were together. Sam licked his lips and pressed an open-mouthed kiss to Dean's shoulder, letting his tongue move quickly over Dean's skin; sweat-salty and musky.

Dean had to be floating in some weird sort of dream; it was the only thing that could explain the heat of Sam's body next to his. Maybe he'd just imagined seeing his brother there. And there was definitely a touch of something burning hot and _wet_ on his skin that shouldn't be there. A frown scrunched together his face and he shifted further on the mattress, trying to pretend that there wasn't a wild dip in his stomach, or an intense heat building low in his crotch. "Sam?" He breathed his brother's name, forcing his eyes open to peer in the darkness at the man. "What are you doing?"

"Research," Sam whispered and leaned over to catch Dean's mouth with his. He couldn't help it - his hips twitched forward, his breath caught in his chest and he moaned against Dean's lips. All the pieces kind of fell in place at the same time, the problem was Sam didn't have a clue what he was doing. He was no _Dean_ , didn't have nearly the experience his brother had. His hands fumbled over Dean's body quickly, tongue moving along his brothers sinfully thick bottom lip.

His hips thrust up into the air almost unconsciously as Dean responded to the kiss. Sam's lips were like fire against his, moving slow and nervous yet sure and strong. His arm slipped out to curl around Sam's back and pull him close, shifting into the kiss to get a better angle. This was the thing he'd spent _years_ thinking about and the fact that it was finally happening was beyond surreal. It was so good - too good - and Dean groaned into Sam's mouth, shoving his tongue past his lips and Sam's, circling around his brother's mouth with a practiced twist.

 _Oh God_ , Sam's heart just about exploded in his chest, Dean's tongue was silky, slick and hot and Sam sucked it deep into his mouth. His fingers slid down across Dean's belly, the abs he'd seen his brother work on so much. Sam's shaking fingers splayed out over his brother’s skin and he hissed out a breath when his pinkie finger slid just under the waist band of Dean's boxer and ghosted over the head of his cock.

Dean's hips once more bucked up at the gentlest touch and Dean jerked his head back, gasping sharply. "Sam..." he panted softly and sucked in deep breaths, shifting to try and detangle himself from the situation. It was all he _wanted_ but they couldn't... Sam was only seventeen years old; he didn't realize the implications of his decisions. This would... change them, forever, and Dean couldn't let it happen. As much as it was going to kill him to make it stop. "Sam we can't..." he insisted, biting down hard on his lower lip to fight back the urge to crush their lips together once more.

"Don't...don't..." Sam murmured and strained his long neck to bite down on Dean's bottom lip and slide his cool fingers under Dean's waistband, wrapping them around his brother's hard shaft. He wanted this; Sam had never been this hard, had no idea what he was doing and it was so fuckin' hot he thought he was going to die right there. Sam's body was as frantic and his mind was confused, his leg slid over Dean's and he thrust clumsily against Dean's hip. "Please," he keened against Dean's lips, licking into his mouth.

"Fuck," Dean gasped out, rocking under Sam's touches. "Nonono Sam..." he chanted even as his hips glided up into Sam's touch. _Get a grip_. His mind supplied and Dean was half tempted to tell his mind to fuck off. To tell all logic to fuck off. He wanted to roll Sam over, pin him to the bed and take him in ways the man couldn't even _dream_ of. And then the loud, harsh cough of their father sounded from the other room and reality splashed hard and cold over Dean. "No." He hissed, hands connected hard with Sam's shoulders, lifting him up just enough that Dean could detangle himself and slide to the other end of the bed, dropping his head heavily into his hands and sighing shakily. "We. Can't."

Sam rubbed at his shoulder where Dean's hand had slammed into him; Dean _never_ hurt him. He licked his lips and blinked in the darkness, panting quietly. "Dean?" He held out a shaking hand and touched Dean's chest.

"Please... just... go back to your own bed. Sammy... I can't do this," Dean's hand reached up and fluttered against Sam's. His eyes traced the skin, pulling up until they settled on Sam's features. "I... this can't happen."

"Y..Yes it can, Dean," Sam's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, "it’s okay," he said shifting closer to his brother, scared, not once in Sam's entire life had Dean been scared to be near him. It felt like the end of something really important and Sam wasn't ready for it. He grabbed at Dean's hip and tried to bring him closer again.

The last of Dean's resistances were fading and he couldn't allow them. He had to be the grown up one, the mature and responsible one that saw the logic. He couldn't give in to the shake in Sam's voice, to the feel of his touch. Not even for just one night because it would never be _just_ one night. He would always want more, would never be completely satisfied.

"Go to bed Sam," he whispered and pushed up from the bed, turning so his brother couldn't see his still half hard cock. "Please..."

"This is..." Sam threw the covers back and climbed out of Dean's bed quickly, "you..." Sam's heart was in his throat and he felt like a complete and total idiot. Obviously, he'd read the entire situation wrong. "I… don't... _ever_ touch me again." Shaking and hurting Sam climbed into his own bed and turned away from Dean so he wouldn't see the tears on his face.

Dean climbed back into his bed, the remaining parts of his heart shattering. It sucked having to be in this place. He wanted to crawl into Sam's bed and hold him close but knew by this point it was too late. Sam would probably just shove him away. "Whatever you want Sammy..." he said softly and buried his head in his pillow, not even carrying when the cloth grew damp with the tears he couldn't fight off.

Morning arrived far too early. Sam opened his eyes and blinked in the early morning light. He yawned and just as he was stretching lazily his brain kicked into gear and his heart sank to the pit of his stomach. His head whipped to the side and he could see the curve of Dean's hip under his sheet. Sam sighed and closed his eyes again. Shame colored his cheeks. Why would he think that Dean had meant anything with the kiss? It was just one of those things that happen - like - like frogs falling from the sky. It had been a mistake and that's what Dean had been thinking and feeling all along. Sam, basically, had made a total ass of himself and he hated Dean for being there to see it. He chewed on his thumbnail nervously trying to figure out how hard it would be to avoid Dean until he left for Stanford. Sam was halfway out of bed when Dean stirred.

The night before was all Dean had dreamed about, so it wasn't too much off a surprise when he woke with a ragging hard on. Sighing deeply, Dean shifted his hips into the mattress and let his eyes flutter open. Sam came almost instantly into his line of sight and everything in him quickened. _don't ever touch me again._ The words rang in his mind and he sat up quickly, stomach churning unpleasantly. Somehow in the past twenty four hours the perfect balanced normality between them had completely collapsed. "Sam," he choked on his brother's name, pushing up from the bed before he realized it would show Sam how turned on he was.

Sam glanced at Dean long enough to feel his heart start to fold in on itself. "What?" He didn't mean to sound that cold, but it was either sound cold or sound like a pathetic idiot. He looked down as he pulled the sheet around him self-consciously.

"Please don't hate me," Dean swallowed, considering what he should do next for just a moment before climbing the rest of the way out of bed and crossing quickly to Sam's, dropping down on the ledge. "Dad was in the other room and I knew that once we did... more... well it was going to be damn near impossible for me to keep my hands off you so I had to stop it. I _had_ too."

Sam sprang up from his bed, snatched his jeans up off the floor and tugged them on. "I don't hate you." He hunted around for a t-shirt that was clean and gave up eventually. Reaching down, he snagged a wrinkled t-shirt, sniffed it then pulled it down over his head. "This was nothing to do with Dad - don't blame him." Sam stared at his brother for a few moments not knowing what to say.

"So would you have preferred if I had fucked you with him in the other room?" Dean snapped, staring at Sam with wide eyes before he climbed off the bed as well and crossed to his drawers. "I don't know what the hell you expect of me Sam; I'm just as fucked up about this whole thing as you." Dean shoved his legs into his jeans and worked quickly at the buttons and zipper. He spun around and crossed to Sam, crowding into his space. "You think I don't want _this_? Because I do. More than anything. But we _can't_."

Having Dean that close to him was absolute torture, it was like his brother was totally magnetic. Sam leaned forward slightly, eyes glued to his brother's; he leaned his cheek against Dean's, timid, scared that his brother was going to shove him away again. He just stayed there, rubbing his cheek against Dean's, hot breath moving over Dean's flesh.

With a soft sigh, Dean stepped impossibly closer into Sam's form, their bodies flushed together and Dean's fingers ghosted along along Sam's hipbone. "Sammy..." he breathed, tilting his head slightly into Sam's. Their lips were so close Dean could feel the puff of Sam's breath. It was almost impossible not to give in but Dean somehow managed to hold himself in that space, pulling in sharp lung fulls of air.

"M'Sorry." Sam let out a long breath, as he pulled back his lips brushed softly over Dean's cheek and then he bolted through the bedroom door.

Dean's body shook slightly and he sucked in a deep breath, holding it for a moment before releasing it slowly. This was going to be impossible. Swallowing deeply, Dean headed out of the room, snagging his shirt from the night before and pulling it on as he moved toward the kitchen.

It was shitty. Sam was miserable. The summer, that he had imagined would be full of nights at the lake with Dean, driving through town in the Impala with the windows open, sneaking beers out to the back porch to join his brother; it was all gone. Sam spent most of each day avoiding his brother at all costs; even his Dad had noticed that Sam wasn't around as much as he usually was. In fact, after a week of the boys being in different rooms all the time John asked Sam what was up his ass. Naturally, that renewed Sam's anger and instead of lurking around the house he headed for the lake every morning with a back pack full of books and whatever food he could swipe. There were worse places to pass his time and Sam had a lot of reading to do for Stanford - even though, at home, it was as though nothing would be happening in September.

It was two weeks before Sam and Dean ended up on the living room couch at the same time. Sam was sitting on the couch with his shirt off, denim-clad legs propped up on the coffee table watching the football game. Dean arrived in time for the kick-off and sat as far away from Sam as he could. Sam was so used to being alone, not talking to anyone all day that he nearly jumped out of his skin when Dean finally said something.

"Who's playin?" Dean was going for casual because, seriously, what was he supposed to say to the brother that had been avoiding him for weeks? The brother he missed terribly. The man he wanted to pull into his arms and kiss senseless just to make this whole thing better.

Sam's jaw tightened, "Cowboys and the Vikings, in Texas." He folded his arms and settled back on the couch determined to stay.

With a slightly annoyed sigh Dean shifted on the couch, reaching out for the remote and stopping when Sam flinched. "Chill dude. I'm just gonna turn up the volume." He rolled his eyes and dropped back into his seat. "Not like I'm gonna jump you or something."

Sam shrugged a shoulder and stared at the TV. "We've been over that, let it go." The game was starting to seem like it _wasn't_ all that important after all. Sam wondered if it might be a good time to go back to the lake, work on his tan a little bit, and get some more reading done. He sat up and fidgeted a bit, knee starting to bounce.

"Sam..." Dean breathed his brother's name and turned to him. "I miss you. I miss _us_. Can you just... pretend to be my brother again?" He stared down at his hands before pulling his eyes up to gaze at Sam.

Sam stood up and moved to walk past Dean, "no, Dean, I can't _pretend_."

"Damnit Sam," Dean shoved up and curled his fingers around Sam's wrist, tugging him forward. "Stop being like this. I don't know how to make it better." He whispered, heart quickening at the sudden closeness of Sam's body.

"You can't make it better, Dean." Sam could feel the warmth of his brother's palm against his own skin, radiating up his arm. He looked away, staring longingly at the front door, "can't take back words." There were times when Sam felt like he was seventeen going on forty, but right now he felt like a stupid, clumsy teenager. He didn't know _what_ he wanted, or how to get it even if he did. His life had been reduced to avoiding the one person he loved the most in the world.

"I have to make it better, I can't... I can't live like this anymore, without you," Dean stepped in and slid his fingers up Sam's arm, trying to pull his attention toward him. Dean's mind had circled over ideas to fix everything for days and there was no solution. He needed Sam to give him _something_.

Sam's arm twisted in Dean's wrist until his fingers could brush over his brother's flesh. He could feel Dean's pulse beating under the pads of his fingers as they gentry stroked his brother's skin. Sam took in a shuddering breath. "I don't know how to _not_ want to touch you, and... it hurts to be around you and not be able to. It hurts, Dean," Sam looked into his brother’s dark green eyes, "to see the way... you look at me - like... like I'm something wrong... or broken..."

Dean shook his head and dropped his hand from Sam's body. "God Sam, you're so wrong. That's not how it is at all. I don't know... I mean, why can't you listen to what I'm saying?" His fingers shifted up to caress Sam's cheek. He breathed in his brother's scent, soaking it in, rocking forward slightly. "You're not wrong or broken. This is just... it's just... we'll fuck everything up. More than it already is."

Leaning into Dean's touch, Sam closed his eyes. Maybe he was just too young to understand but Sam just didn't get how this could be something bad. Just like he had a million times before, Sam threw his arms around Dean's neck and buried his face in his brother's warm shoulder; he inhaled Dean's scent - the one he'd fallen asleep with so many times - and for once - Sam wanted to be that little kid again, the one who was always allowed to be near Dean.

His knees felt weak just from having Sam so close and Dean slid his hand up into Sam's hair, memorizing the scent he already knew so well. His brother's warmth melted into him, twisted and swirled inside him until Dean wasn't sure which was his and which was Sam's. He felt like he could hold Sam like this all day and not grow tired of it. Besides, who knew how long it would be until he got a chance like this again. Dean thought maybe he should say something but any words his mind supplied didn't seem adequate so he simply tightened his hold and breathed softly.

Sam pulled back slightly pressing a timid kiss to the sensitive skin in front of Dean's ear, breath catching in his chest. He stiffened in his brother's arms, waiting for Dean to shove him away, clinging tighter to Dean's back.

The touch was just soft enough for Dean to tell himself he could pretend it never happened. Only he really wanted it. He wanted everything Sam would give him and it wasn't _fair_ that he had to be the smart one, the sensible. "Sam..." he said softly, though the name sounded more like a breathy moan than anything else.

As relief washed over Sam he started to tremble; his whole body vibrated. Even if Dean had asked him what was going on, Sam wouldn't have known what to say. He knew, somewhere in his thick head - that Dean was right. Dean was the one who was protecting Sam, making sure they made the right decisions, did the right things. But - the fact that Dean hadn't pushed him away made Sam's knees a little weak, made his heart speed up. Sam's cheek was still pressed against Dean's and Sam turned his head ever-so-slightly, sliding the corner of his mouth against Dean's skin; he was terrified to even breathe.

Heat pooled almost instantly in Dean's lower belly and his entire body vibrated with alertness. _Stop it Dean_ his mind insisted but Dean was weak. Too weak. And the part of him that wanted this more than anything else in the world had him tilting slightly toward his brother's lips. This was going to end badly, Dean already knew it, and the smartest decision was to step back now before things could get any further intense. Of course Dean didn't listen to the logic rounding through his mind, ignored it in favor of letting his lips drag along the skin leading to Sam's lips. "Sam..." he said again, the only word his brain seemed to be able to produce.

Sam felt like he was almost frozen to the spot, scared to move too far, push too much, _want_. His hand moved slowly and settled against Dean's jaw, thumb moving over his cheek then back down along his silky lips.

Dean's chest rose and fell in one deep breath and his eyes fluttered closed at the touch. "We..." Dean worked the word along his tongue, trying to keep his lower lip from quivering, trying to keep his body from giving out. "Sam." He made the name sound a little more firm, hoping Sam could be the one strong enough to step back. This constant torture was going to kill Dean.

Sam could sense that he was losing his brother again, "Dean, just a little while, please?" His bottom lip quivered slightly and his fingers curled into a fist against Dean's neck. "I promise, I won't... just..." he leaned heavily against his brother. He didn't know what else to do, what else to say.

It definitely wasn't the smartest idea but Dean went with it regardless. "A little while." He whispered and tilted forward, brushing his lips against Sam's briefly before slipping back. His fingers tightened for a moment in Sam's hair before slipping back, sliding down his skin, cupping his neck and pulling him in. Dean's head tilted to the side, mouth opening slightly so their lips could meet and slip together.

Kissing his brother was easy; it felt like Sam had been doing it his entire life. He brushed his lips back and forth softly then broke the kiss, panting against his brother's mouth. "Th..thank-you." He pressed his forehead against Dean's for a few moments and brushed past him, fumbling with the front door and slipping out quickly. He ran, hard and fast, across the garden, down the road and didn't stop until his chest ached and he reached the edge of the lake.

Dean collapsed down onto the couch and sighed shakily. This was the closest to hell he'd ever been.

The tension between them was no easier the more time that passed. It wasn't as electric though, or at least Dean didn't feel like Sam was going to spontaneously combust into a giant ball of flame each time Dean entered the room. During the following three and a half weeks - so close to four, so close to the time Sam would be leaving his life for good - Dean wondered at his ability to stay sane. Every night he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, imagining what it would be like to climb out of bed curl into Sam's side.

Dean was amazed that his heart still had the ability to beat and it was really starting to show. There were large bags under his eyes, he was constantly dozing off at work and nearly getting himself fired on more than one occasion. Dean was almost counting down the days until Sam left if only because then he could curl in on himself under the blankets and sleep without worrying about whether the man would be there when he woke up. And he knew he was being an ass, or at least was avoiding Sam as much as Sam was avoiding him, so he set to make it right.

He told Sam to get his shoes on because they were going to a movie. And no, he wasn't taking no for an answer. Dean had found a local drive in playing old noir films - two in a row - and it seemed much better than sitting on opposite ends of the couch and staring at sitcoms that weren't even funny. What Dean didn't think of was the fact that they'd be stuck together in his car for the entirety of the two movies. And the thought didn't really hit him until they pulled into the parking spot and Dean uncurled his hands from the steering wheel, glancing over at Sam before staring at the advertisement on the screen.

Clearing his throat, he shifted in his seat and said softly, "Remember that one drive-in we went to Idaho when you were, what, six? And we spent the entire time sitting on the hood of the car and seeing how many pieces of popcorn we could launch into the open window of the car over?"

"Yeah, I 'member," Sam leaned his head against the cool window and sank down further on the seat. "We used to have some fun." His arms were tight across his chest. Lately, Sam had started to feel numb. He was going to be leaving soon, leaving _everything_ and somehow, he had a feeling he'd be losing everything too.

"We did," Dean nodded and traced his finger along the steering wheel. He was going to miss Sam. Miss him on the level that would make his heart ache, his body collapse, make it hard to breathe. He tried not to think about it now, but really it was the only thing that seemed to register these days. "Sam..." he whispered, turning his head to look at his brother. Tears pricked along his eyes and he willed them back.

Sam turned slowly and looked at his brother, "Yeah?" He blinked a few times then looked back out the windshield. He was used up. He was starting to think that leaving for school and putting all this stuff behind him would be best for everyone. Sam just felt empty.

"I'm really gonna miss you." He whispered the words, reaching out slowly to let his fingers rest along Sam's thigh.

Glancing down at his brother's hand Sam sighed and slipped his hand over his brother’s then rested his head against the window again. "It'll all be fine, Dean. You'll be... things will feel better when I'm gone - when we don’t see," he shrugged. "Do you want some popcorn or something?" Sam's eyes darted to the small building in the middle of the lot, "I could get you some, or a soda." His fingers curled into Dean's palm.

"No," Dean shook his head and shifted across the seat, reaching out to run a hand across Sam's hair. "It's not going to be better. These... how I feel... it's not gonna disappear because you're gone. I've been living with it too long for that to be the solution." He sighed and hovered too close to his brother. All he wanted was to pull him close again and hold him but he restrained himself. Like he always did.

Sam wasn't going out on a limb this time, it hurt too much. Every time he tried to reach Dean, touch him, it backfired; either Dean pushed him away or Sam felt worse than he had before. Sam shifted; pulling his hand away from Dean's to brush his hair off his face then folding his arms across his chest again. "What you gonna do... you know... when I go? You gonna keep workin'? Go back huntin' with Dad?"

Swallowing thickly, hand still hanging in the air from where it had been against Sam's skin, Dean lifted his shoulder and shifted back on the seat. "Yeah, hunt. We haven't talked about it. Maybe I'll go with Dad. Maybe I'll go out on my own. Guess I'll see where he needs me." Dean settled back onto the cool leather beside Sam and rubbed his palm against his thighs. He stared out the windshield for awhile before turning back to Sam's profile. "Sam, can I..." his body tilted forward, close enough to see the firm lines of Sam's face, his chest leaning against Sam's side.

Shrinking back a little, Sam turned towards Dean, their lips just inches apart. "C..Can you... what?"

Dean dragged his tongue across his lip and followed Sam's shift, adjusting on the seat so he could face his brother more. "I'd like to... can I... kiss you? Just once. Just one time with no consequences, can I have that?" He whispered the words, fingers itching to bury in Sam's hair, to drag him close.

There were a million reasons for Sam to say no; it was only going to make things worse, it was seven thousand kinds of messed up, Sam wanted it - and when you wanted something _too_ much - no good could come of getting it. Sam was already old enough to know that. The problem was, he was nodding as his eyes locked with Dean's.

Within moments his fingers laced up into the back of Sam's hair, twining the silky locks between his fingers. "Thank you," he whispered before dragging Sam forward, head tilting, mouth opening until their lips connected solidly. His heart skipped a beat as his tongue slid forward, softly tracing the line of Sam's lower lip before pushing forward, eager to learn what the inside of Sam's mouth would taste like. Every part of his body thrummed to life and he pushed his tongue past Sam's lips the rest of the way.

Heat shot through Sam's body, blasted across his heart making it beat furiously. Dean's tongue was hot inside Sam's mouth, tasted... like the beer he'd had earlier, strange, like Dean should. Sam's lips parted without a second thought, his tongue swept against his brother's; his fingers slipped under Dean's t-shirt brushed over his sides.

Dean adjusted into the kiss, making it count, knowing it was the only chance he got. Sam was everything Dean had imagined, lips warmed and slick against his. Each touch was gentle and nervous which only made them that much better. A moan crossed between them and Dean's hand slid from Sam's jaw, down his neck and chest, coming to rest high on Sam's thigh. He could see their paths laid out before them, the potential, what _could_ be. But he couldn't let it happen. His heart sank as he slid back slightly, eyes staying closed as their lips parted and Dean surprised himself by whimpering.

It was the worst sound Sam had ever heard and at the same time, it jolted his body into action. Sam shoved Dean backwards, slamming him against the car door as his mouth crashed into Dean's. It was a bruising kiss, hard and wet, Sam's tongue pushed into Dean's mouth, slipping and sliding, trying desperately to map out every part of his brother's warmth. His hands slid down over the muscles of Dean's chest, one hooking over his belt firmly - the other hands palming the front of his brother's jeans. The feel of Dean's hard-on under Sam's hand made him groan and press closer. There wasn't enough.

 _Ohshit._ Dean groaned, hands scrambling for purchase along Sam's shirt front, digging into the material as he opened his mouth wider for Sam. His hips arched up into Sam's touch for a moment as their tongues collided together and Dean struggled to kick his brain and sense of reason into gear. "Sammy," he gasped out, pulling his lips back and gently nudging at his brother's chest. "Can't. Not here. In public." he gasped out, hips rolling. Dean was certain if Sam kept this up he'd come in his pants without even a real touch. It was pathetic.

"Drive," Sam's lips moved on his brother's, "s'go home... now...." he slid back slightly so Dean could right himself and start the car. Sam's hand stayed strong on Dean's thigh, fingers curling into the muscular leg, back of his fingers grazing over the sensitive bulge under Dean's zipper. He was gasping for breath as he leaned in to suck on Dean's neck, lapping at the sweaty skin then drawing it up into his soft mouth. "Drive," he almost purred against his brother's neck.

All the words of reason, the logic, the stuff that said _no_ was shoved to the farthest parts of Dean's mind and jammed his key into the ignition, turning quickly and shifting the car into drive. Sam's flesh against him was driving him crazy and it was a miracle he could even see straight to drive. His head tilted to the side softly, legs falling open as much as he could as he tore out of the parking lot and steered them toward home. This was going to happen, he couldn't believe it, but he was going to allow it. He was going to allow this one time, savor it, remember it always and Sam would go to school in about a month and move on. It would stay their one and only secret. Dean nearly ran a red light, pulling up short just in time with a harsh pant.

Sam ducked under Dean's arm and rested against his chest, licking and sucking at Dean's Adam's apple, his other hand rubbing his brother's nipple through the soft, thin material of his worn t-shirt. He didn't care that Dean was trying to drive, would be just as happy if his brother pulled the car over to the side of the road. But Dean kept driving, making the most amazing noises that Sam had heard come out of his brother's body. By the time they pulled around the corner onto their street Sam had pushed Dean's t-shirt up out of the way and was sucking Dean's already heard nipple into his mouth, teasing with the end of his tongue, nipping gently.

It was obvious Sam was attempting to _kill_ them. "Sammy," he gasped, turning sharply into the driveway and reaching around Sam to shift the car back into park. He pushed open the door and in one swift movement hooked his arm under Sam's neck and dragged him out of the car. He stumbled up to the front door, fumbling with his key in the lock against Sam practically attached to his body. " _Jesus_ Sam," he hissed as he finally pushed the door open and curled his fingers around Sam's arm, dragging him into the house and slamming him up against the door, stepping instantly between his legs and crashing their lips together.

Sam's hands shoved down between their bodies, tugging frantically at Dean's belt - finally slipping the leather out of the buckle he moaned loudly into his brother's kiss and pushed off from the door - shoving Dean toward the bedroom. Sam slipped his long fingers down under his brother's jeans, fingers rubbing back and forth over Dean's hardness. _fuck_. Sam could barely breathe, their kisses were desperate and long, and Sam had _never_ been kissed that way by anyone. The bounced off the wall in the hallway and Sam stumbled, "Dean…" his hands slid up his brother's chest, shoulders, neck and grasped his hair.

"Fuckk Sammm," he hissed the words, every fiber of every inch of his body tingled and thrummed and Dean pushed them back into the bedroom. Sam's lithe body slid under his hands as he fumbled with the cloth of his shirt, tugging it up and over his head, tossing it to the side. Dean's fingers curled around Sam's hips, bringing their crotches together to meet and slide. Dean dropped his lips to Sam's chest, dragging his teeth along the flesh, sucking it in and working the muscle beneath his teeth. His brain tried to process all the things he wanted to do to Sam, which would be the best to do first. Dean's fingers hooked under the button of Sam's jeans, popping it free, dragging the zipper down, loosening the waist band enough for him to shove his hand inside his brother's pants and curl calloused fingers around Sam's hard shaft, stroking up.

Sam's guts flipped inside him, and he fell against Dean. He'd never been touched like that, _never_. He pressed a trail of wet kisses up Dean's arm, over his chin and across his lips. Sam's hand grabbed onto Dean's hair so hard it had to be hurting. He yanked his brother's head back roughly, "ask me to stay and I will, Dean, just say it- say don't go..." he whispered against Dean's neck knowing his brother could hear him. "Please," he begged sucking on Dean's bottom lip.

It was like a bucket of water dumped over him and Dean slid back, panting roughly, putting several feet between Sam and him. He blinked rapidly to clear the lust from his eyes. "Wha... Sam... no. No Sam. Don't... you can't put that on me." His pants hung open, his lips were swollen from rough kisses, and all he could think about was being _that_ selfish. Making Sam give up his dreams for him. It was impossible. "No..."

Sam whirled and knocked everything off the top of the dresser with one sweep of his arm. He stood there a few moments then leaned on the empty surface, letting his head fall down. He closed his eyes and listened to their breathing, his and Dean's in the bedroom. He groaned and pushed hard against the dresser then stumbled back and sat down on the bottom of Dean's bed.

"Sam..." Dean stepped forward, hesitating for a moment, hand extended toward the man. He wasn't surprised that Sam was pissed, he would never see things the way Dean did and he'd already accepted that. The only thing to do now was to try and see if there was anything salvageable left between them. "You understand right? Why I can't... you deserve something better. You're worth more than this."

Sam pushed up from the end of the bed and started to fix his clothes, tugging his pants up and buttoning them, straightening his shirt. "You're right, Dean, I do deserve more, " he spat. His eyes were huge, his hair hanging in his eyes and he stepped back up to Dean, taking his mouth again and kissing him long and hard. He broke away with a half moan; half sob, drew back his arm and punched Dean solidly in the jaw. Sam stumbled back shaking his fist in pain.

Dean reeled back with the unexpected connection of bone against his jaw. He stared down at the ground, head tilted to the side, skin tingling in pain. "Fuck you." He finally hissed, fed up with everything. His gaze leveled on his brother and he stepped forward, shoving him hard in the chest. "I've spent my entire life giving up _everything_ for you Sam. You're such a selfish little brat. So this is the way you want things to end between us? That's fine. Have a nice life." He spat the words and spun away, fixing up his jeans and snatching at his shirt on the floor, tugging it on as he headed for the door.

"I won't be here when you come back." Sam grabbed his duffel bag and started throwing his clothes in it. What difference did a couple of weeks make, Dad wouldn't care, Dean _obviously_ wanted him gone. "Don't put this on me, Dean - you just remember who fucking kissed who first." He couldn't even look at his brother, his chest ached where Dean had shoved him and it felt like his head was going to blow apart. Sam grabbed everything he could think of, _fuck_ , it wasn't like he even owned that much. Really all that had ever mattered to him was Dean - and without that...

"Yeah _Sam_ you're right like always," Dean snorted and slapped the hard frame of the door, hesitating for a moment. "Like I said. Have a nice life." He didn't allow anything else Sam might say register, simply stalked as fast as possible out of the house and to his car. He drove for a good ten minutes before wrenching the vehicle off the road, collapsing against the steering wheel and breaking down into sobs. And true to Sam's words, when he returned home several hours later, Sam was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

The day after Sam left ranked highest on Dean's list of 'Worst Days Ever.' In fact, it was so outrageously painful, he spent more than half of it buried in his mattress, blanket covering his form. He probably would have spent the entire day there - outside of the need to piss and quench his parched throat - if it weren't for his Dad turning up at some point and pulling him up with a stern glare. Of course he wanted to know where Sam was, which just made Dean feel worse, and he only just managed to grumble something about getting into a fight, about Sam leaving to go to Stanford early.

"I know you think he should be more devoted to hunting son but that's just the way Sam is," John had advised with a sympathetic smile, adding that Dean needed to shower and get out before he accused him of moping. Dean was moping - he knew it - and he dragged himself from the bed just so he didn't have to focus on how very little his dad seemed to know about him. About either of them really. Dean never thought Sam needed to be more devoted to the job, hell, Dean was the one who _forced_ Sam to leave. He'd been given the chance to keep him around and he didn't.

Dean stood under the shower for a solid hour and stared up into the spray, thinking he'd inhale enough that he could actually drown. It wasn't just the Sam shaped hole in his heart that was killing him either. It wasn't the burning in his jaw or the way he could still taste Sam's tongue lingering inside his mouth. It was the knowledge that he'd never see his brother again. That much Dean knew. Sam wouldn't be coming home for visits - hell, they wouldn't even have a home in a few months once the lease was up - and Dean knew he wouldn't be showing up at Stanford for family week if there was such a thing. No... Sam was _gone_.

It hurt so much Dean dropped to his knees in the shower and let out a chocked sob. Everything boiled down to this one final moment, he'd done this, he'd broken everything between them. He was the only one responsible for losing his brother.

That night Dean went to three different gay bars until he found a guy who looked just enough like Sam for him to pretend. He took the kid out back and fucked him against the wall, calling him Sam the entire time. And the kid moaned and took it like Dean was offering the elixir of life. His hair was the perfect length, long and shaggy, and Dean yanked it hard, held it firm in his grasp with each thrust.

It wasn't Sam though. And Dean knew that. Which is why he stepped back moments after they'd both come, tucked himself into his pants and rounded the corner, dropping to his knees once he was out of sight and heaving the meagre contents of bile and beer onto the rough cement.

The rest of the month didn't go much better.

At some point in time the sharp ache in Dean grew to a numb throbbing that was always there, vibrating under the surface of everything he did. John had needed him on a hunt and Dean went without question, drove without music, ate and drank without thought. Everything was automatic. Duck to avoid the swing of the creatures arm, roll to the side so the gun shot didn't connect with his body, pull the trigger to kill the thing and watch his father's back. Every spare moment was spent sleeping or drinking - just to _feel_.

When John asked about his plans post hunt Dean made the decision to go off on his own. He couldn't be around his dad any more than was necessary. It was too hard to force a small, force a laugh, too hard to pretend that breathing was something that didn't require all his energy, that getting out of bed was the hardest thing in the world.

Dean had over a thousand dollars saved in the bank and he blew it all in two weeks time. He paid for a cheap motel room and cleaned out the liquor isle, buying just enough protein to ensure he wouldn't die from alcohol poisoning. The days were spent in an intoxicated blur; awake long enough to get good and drunk before passing out. Waking up to stumble to the bathroom and purge his system of whatever food he'd managed to eat before his last drinking splurge. He'd force down a couple glasses of water, a selection of whatever food he had left, then pop open the nearest bottle of Jack and finish it off.

By the end of August he was broke and constantly sick - and smelt worse than a garbage can outside a Mexican restaurant. Dean knew he had to pull himself out of his funk if there was any chance he was going to live to the end of the year.

So step by step he straightened out his life. He still missed Sam more than he missed sobriety but well, that wasn't likely to change any time soon. Sam was _gone_ and he had to accept the fact and move on. It took a week to work the remaining alcohol from his system. Dean showered - shaved though he considered keeping the beard - and left the motel smelling ten times better than the room did. His phone had been off the entire time, though it turned out not to matter since there were no messages. Dean didn't know if it hurt or not, everything just kind of hurt now.

During mid September Dean had played enough pool games to win back his money, and began a quest for a hunt. Didn't take too long. And then it just sort of went on from there. Case after case, day by day that shifted to week by week and month by month. Dean forced smiles and laughter, drank beer, fucked people, hunted demons.

The following May Dean caved to the need to see Sam and for the first time and made the trip to Palo Alto, California, just to look in. It was surprisingly easy to find him. Sam was crossing the campus with a group of people, head thrown back, laughing. Whatever was left of Dean's heart shattered; crumbled into little pieces and blew away with the gentle gusts of wind. He stopped a couple hundred yards away but it might as well have been a different world. He knew then that he'd made the right choice in making Sam go. Dean's life was already set for him, from the moment their mother died, but Sam had potential. He was gonna be someone.

It made it easier to leave knowing Sam was so happy. There was nothing he wanted more than his brother's happiness.

So Dean let himself get swept up in the hunts, the times he could bury himself in human flesh, the gentle buzz of alcohol. The more time that passed, the easier it became to bury the ache, to ignore the pain. By the time a year had passed Dean was even able to go to sleep without finishing off a six pack of beer. He still stared at the ceiling for hours before it happened but it did and that was the important thing.

The Christmas during Sam's sophomore year Dean once more made the trip, though by this point he felt it was like self mutilation only directed at his emotions. Chances were any pieces of his heart that he'd managed to put back together by this point were likely to shatter all over again but Dean needed to see his brother. He needed it more than he needed the jagged edges of his heart anyway.

Sam was harder to find this time, since it appeared he didn't live on campus any more. But Dean did manage to hunt him down by the end of the first day. Sam was once more surrounded with people coming out of a restaurant. They were all talking quietly together, obviously deep in discussion. Sam's head was dipped down, and Dean watched the play of a grin across his lips at something a friend said. Dean leaned back against the wall across the street, hidden in the shadows, burying his hands in his pockets and sighing softly. This time it wasn't such a heartbroken feeling, more of a dull ache, resigned.

When Dean left that time he told himself he wouldn't come back. It was nice to see Sam so happy but the wake of sadness in which he found himself afterward was too much, brought Dean too close to the edge of utter despair again.

He managed to keep that up - the whole, not seeing Sam thing - until what would be the man's senior year of college. Two years, twenty four full months full of only seeing his brother through memories and dreams, and Dean gave in. It happened after a particularly brutal hunt in which Dean broke his arm and three ribs. He'd woken - alone - in the hospital and spent several days staring at the door and wishing his brother would magically appear. Dean didn't talk to his dad very often - maybe once every couple of months - and that worked best for them.

So how he expected any member of his family to show up was beyond him but Dean could still harbour the wish. Hours of thinking - forced into it - Dean decided there could be more for him. Why couldn't he go to Stanford, tell Sam how he genuinely felt, and see what that got him. They could sit down and have a logical conversation about it, Sam wasn't a child anymore. And even if nothing came of it, they were both in different places now. They could be brothers again. Dean wanted that more than anything. He could pretend that memory of their few brief kisses and touches didn't get him harder than anything else. Especially if that meant having Sam in his life.

Only when he finally gold released from the hospital - finally arrived in Palo Alto, _finally_ tracked down his brother – he was proven wrong like a punch in the gut. Sam was coming out of a bar, arm slung low on the waist of a skinny blond. They were both laughing, tilted in toward each other, and Dean watched from the shadows with dark eyes, considering his next move. He had just about to step forward when Sam stopped and pulled the blond forward, brought their lips together.

Dean watched the kiss because he was a masochistic. Because he needed to see it to believe. Because Sam was kissing her like it was the best thing he'd ever felt and Dean knew then that there would never be a time when Sam could just be his brother again. Dean was too far gone for Sam and it was too late to fix it.

When his heart could take no more, when his stomach threatened to push up his dinner from earlier, Dean turned and headed toward his car. Even though tears streamed down his cheeks, Dean told himself he was happy for Sam - and he was. He told himself Sam was going to be alright, was going to have a good life, and that Dean would be okay occasionally checking in from the shadows. It was where he belonged anyway. He was no longer a part of Sam's life and that was just how it was going to be.

One of the first times Sam thought about his brother in well over a year was the day he passed the bar exam. He desperately wanted to have a beer with his older brother. Jess had planned a huge affair, cocktails, a jazz quartet and invited all the most important people she knew. When Sam arrived home, pleased, yet drained beyond belief it was to a house full of catering, a bartender and a new suit lying out on the bed. Sam sat down by the suit, fingering the expensive material and found himself wondering what it might have been like to have an older brother to celebrate with. It was more his style to kick back with a beer and watch the game.

Jess was the one who would be in her element at a refined cocktail party. As far as he’d managed to run from _some_ things, he’d never to run from his fear of getting to know people. Letting people _in_ had never turned out to be such a good thing – that was until Jess. For some reason, Jess was okay with not knowing about every single thing that had gone on in Sam’s past; and Sam liked it that way. If he didn’t have to talk about the things that were missing from his life, it was far easier _not_ to miss them.

Sam sighed, pushed up off the bed and walked over to the bathroom to have a shower. He almost wished had hadn’t passed the bar so he could see how Jess would explain _that_ to the crowd that was soon to be downstairs.

 _Sam loved Jess, or at least the _idea_ of her. It just seemed like they had different ideas about the path they were on. Sam had wanted to be a lawyer to fight for people’s rights, try and make a difference for them. For Jess, Sam’s legal career was a vehicle for getting the things she wanted to. Jess wanted to be a lawyer’s wife probably more than she had wanted to be _Sam’s_ wife. It worked out okay really, Sam wanted a wife who didn't want a husband who was one hundred percent hers. Sam had known the moment he left home, left _Dean_ , he would never let himself belong to someone again._

Jess had several reasons to celebrate in the first years of their marriage. Shortly after he passed the bar he was brought on board at the firm Kaplan and Golightly. He was young, it was a big firm and Jess was pleased. An even higher quality suit awaited him at home the night he was to celebrate his appointment. A year later he received an Armani suit and Italian leather shoes when he was made Associate. The higher quality the suit the less he felt like he had anything in common with his wife. His _wife_. Sometimes, he would say it over and over like it would somehow make more sense to him.

Sam was a defence lawyer. Jess had pushed him in that direction and Sam had no reason to suggest anything else. Sam really had no reasons to suggest very much. He was a passenger along for a ride, had some skills that made it easy for him to make a living doing something he could do well; it was Jess' train they were on now.

The first time it occurred to Sam that Jess might be sleeping with someone else he couldn't even find it within himself to care. He was looking through her purse one morning for his car keys and found a box of condoms. He stood there holding the box for a few minutes, staring at the silver wording on the package. Sam and Jess didn't use condoms; they hardly ever had sex and when they did it was unprotected. Jess had informed Sam long before they married that she was unable to have children; he didn't bother trying to find out why she had lied when he found her birth control prescription. Truth be told it didn't matter to him. Sam figured he shouldn't be having kids, shouldn't be exposed to someone young enough to learn how to be as fucked up as he was. No family that cared about him, a loveless marriage and a job he wouldn't miss if it disappeared one day.

Most evenings, Sam worked until well after nine pm. His office was set up with everything he needed, a shower, a closet with shirts fresh from the dry-cleaners, a computer and a fully stocked bar. He was usually drunk by the time he pulled up in their driveway. _Their_ driveway. Jess hated him parking his car in the front of the house; she said it was an eyesore. At the firm, people just thought of Sam as the eclectic young soon-to-be partner and he figured it couldn't hurt to keep people on their toes; keep them guessing. The only time Jess had yelled during a disagreement (she said it was uncouth) was the day Sam had brought the car home. Jess had said she didn't care that it was a 1967 Impala - it wasn't going to be parked in the driveway. It was the only time Sam had insisted on anything since they'd been married; truthfully? One of the only things he cared about at all.

If asked, Dean Winchester would say his life lacked any real complications. After all, how complicated could a life be when it was made up of constantly traveling from place to place, hunting demons, drinking beer, fucking people. Dean had it easy. There were no commitments, no one to answer too, and alright, maybe he was a little lonely but he’d heard somewhere that even a person constantly surrounded could be lonely so what did that prove? That he was just like everyone else? Sure… in a really screwed up way.

And if he had a little bit of an obsession with going out of his way to drive past his estranged brother’s house… well, it was really just to ensure his well being. After all, Sam might not have been in the biz for almost nine years now but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a Winchester. Being a Winchester came with a certain reputation among supernatural beings and Dean wasn’t completely certain how prepared his brother would be in the case of needing those old family skills.

Dean had occasionally wondered if this was how his life would always be. Thirty years old with nothing to show of it excluding a long line of people’s lives he’d saved. People who probably would pretend not to recognize him should their paths ever cross. It wasn’t so bad though. Dean loved what he did, saving people, even if it meant he sometimes had to do some more than questionable things to ensure he’d get his next meal. Even if it meant losing the one person that really mattered most to him. Which wasn’t entirely true but he told himself it was because it made it easier to sleep at night believing the lie that not having Sam in his life was worth hunting.

It happened to be on the way to check in on that one person when his life changed forever. He never would have thought as he slid behind the wheel of his ’67 Chevy Impala that this particular Tuesday would matter so much in the long run. The stretch of road he’d been heading down for the past two hours was void of signs of human life – including cars – and Dean was traveling at a leisurely pace when he saw her.

Fields of wheat billowed in the wind along each side of the two lane highway and her dress seemed to catch in the breeze, swishing around her knees. Dean frowned and pulled the car to a stop a few yards behind her, considering the girl silently before he pushed open the door and climbed out. Dean had a knack for guessing ages and he pin pointed hers around seven, eight at the most, which made the entire scene unpleasant almost instantly. The part of him that was always on the alert for things out of the ordinary flared to life and had him peering around cautiously with each step he took forward.

“Hey,” he called as he closed in on the small frame.

Her braided pig tails bounced back and forth as she turned to him. Dean stopped mid step as he took in large, bright eyes, so blue the sky paled in comparison. “Hello.” The blue disappeared for a moment with the drop of her eye lids before returning with force enough to have Dean stepping back.

“Are you lost?” Dean asked though he wasn’t sure where she could possibly be lost _from_. He hadn’t passed anything outside of crops for a good hundred miles. That didn’t mean there wasn’t a small farm town beyond these fields though so he figured it didn’t hurt to check.

She shook her head slightly and asked, “Are you?”

It was a very weird question for a kid to ask. But then again, Dean didn’t know much about how kids worked. The few times he’d had to work with them on a case he’d always found himself utterly confused about how to handle their interactions. Dean definitely wouldn’t consider himself a kid person. “Uh… no. I know where I’m going. Look, does your family live around here? I mean, where did you come from?”

The little girl shifted the bear in her arms before extending her arm up, folding her fingers until just the index one pointed up at the cloudless blue sky.

Dean followed the line of her arm, tilting his head back and squinting at the open air above them. Kids were definitely on a level that Dean did not comprehend. “Uh… alright. So… what’s your name?”

“Shadrach,” she dropped her arm and her lips extended into a large grin that scrunched up the edges of her cheeks. “What’s yours?”

It took a moment for Dean to answer because that smile threw him for a loop he hadn’t been expecting. The only person he knew that could compete with that smile was Sam… and that was all memory based. Dean had a pretty good memory though, especially for Sam’s smiles. When he did fully register the girl’s response, he flinched. “Tough break.” Seriously, who named their kids Shadrach? That was cruel. “I’m Dean Winchester. Got a last name Shadrach?”

“Oh good,” her eyes scrunched up with the force of her smile and she giggled, stepping toward him. Once more her arm extended this time offering up the scraggly brown stuffed teddy bear she carried. “This is Winslow Bear. He thinks you look friendly.”

Dean thought he looked anything _but_ friendly, even on his friendly days – which were few and far between. His eyes drifted down to the bear and he nodded, dropping to one knee so he could look into the little girl’s big, blue eyes without her having to tilt her head all the way back. “Shaddy… do you mind if I call you Shaddy?”

She giggled and shook her head, stepping closer to him and reaching up with tiny fingers to adjust the back pack she wore. “Can I call you Dean Bean?”

A snort of laughter left his lips and Dean curled his hand around the back of his neck, rubbing at the muscles. “I think you should call me Dean. But look Shaddy, are your mom and dad around somewhere? Because you really shouldn’t be walking around by yourself.”

“They’re in Heaven,” Shadrach said softly and picked at Winslow Bear, her lower lip quivering.

Dean felt like an ass instantly and he pushed up, offering his hand, “Alright, come on. You and I are gonna go for a ride, sound good?”

Shadrach folded her tiny fingers in Dean’s and glanced up at him. “Can we get cheeseburgers? I’m hungry.”

This time Dean couldn’t help the grin that tugged up his lips as he pulled open the passenger door for the little girl to climb in. “Yeah, cheeseburgers and milkshakes.”

Dean spent the rest of day driving through the small farm towns all up and down the road. No one had ever met Shadrach before – or ever even _seen_ her – and any time he tried to ask her more about things she had no answer. Just that apparently she came from the sky and her parents were in Heaven. By the time he pulled into a motel it was after ten and the little girl was curled against him, fast asleep with Winslow Bear in her arms.

He spent money on two beds and tucked Shadrach in the middle of one, barely managing to peel off her backpack before she nestled into the pillow and covers. When he woke in the morning she was curled against his side, arms still wrapped tight around Winslow Bear, backpack slung over her shoulders. Dean just stared at her for a long stretch of seconds that blurred to minutes, wondering what the hell he’d gotten himself into.

As the day progressed Dean learned that it was pretty easy to get along with a kid but not so easy to be responsible for them. Plus Shadrach seemed to have this tendency to randomly disappear. Like at the first gas station they’d stopped in. He’d gone inside to pay and came back out to find the passenger door open – the inside empty.

This had sent Dean into panic, causing him to whip around in circles until he finally spotted her picking dandelions across the way and blowing on them so the seeds went flying off into the wind. He crossed to her angrily, fully planning on chastising her for disappearing like that until she turned to him with that bright grin and giggled, “Dean Bean! They’re flying away! Do you think they’re going home?”

And it was so cute – Dean admitted only to himself and swore to never say out loud – that the angry words died on his lips. Instead he offered his hand and folded it around hers as they headed back to the car. “Sure kid. They’re going home. Let’s try to stay with the car next time okay?” She had simply nodded and pressed a kiss to the top of Winslow Bear’s head.

That evening they stopped at a diner for some food and Shadrach coloured precisely in the lines of her menu, chattering to Dean about her favourite color of the rainbow and which flowers she liked to smell the most. Dean stared at his own menu until the waitress came up to take their orders, beaming down at Shadrach in the way people tended too. “You’re daughter’s adorable.” She said and Dean opened his mouth to inform her she was mistaken but Shadrach was giggling and the waitress was already walking away.

After a brief sip of chocolate milk, the girl continued her coloring, kicking her legs against the seat and saying, “I like your necklace.”

It was something Dean wore by habit and his hand drifted up to trace the familiar figure, mind instantly supplying a mental image of Sam. “It’s an amulet.”

“I know,” Shadrach glanced up at him, meeting his eyes for a few moments before extending the blue crayon in her grasp. “Do you want to color the whale?”

Dean’s eyes drifted down to the half coloured picture and he shook his head. “Knock yourself out.”

“You’re weird Dean Bean,” Shadrach giggled and set down the blue crayon, picking up the pink instead and beginning in on the sea creature. “So where are we going next? Can we go to somewhere with a playground? I want to swing, you can push me.”

“I need to find where you belong,” Dean pushed the glass of soda between his fingers. “Hey Shaddy, what’s in your backpack? Can I look at it?”

Shadrach’s crayon hesitated mid motion and she pulled her eyes up from the paper, nose crinkling. “It’s _my_ backpack.”

“I know, but maybe there’s something in there that has your address on it,” Dean reasoned, then mentally kicked himself because, seriously, who tried to reason with a seven – maybe eight – year old? “Hey how old are you?”

“Old enough.” Shadrach resumed her coloring and made no move to open her backpack or take it from the place it still rested over her shoulders.

“Old enough to what?” Dean chuckled softly, leaning back in the seat.

“Old enough to have my own backpack.”

Dean let the topic drop, feeling more out of his league then he logically should.

When the girl was still there the next morning – and still wearing the same dress – Dean realized he was going to have to do something about this. Which was how he found himself at Wal-Mart with a bouncing little girl who picked out dress after dress, eyes widening a little more each time at the variety of pastels and designs. Dean knew absolutely nothing about the things she would need but fortunately Shadrach seemed to be well schooled in these areas and the only thing Dean had to pick out was a duffel bag to carry it all in. Even then Shadrach had insisted on the ridiculously bright hot pink one that Dean hated even the idea of carrying around.

They spent way too much money at the store and Dean flinched internally as they headed back to the car with the purchases – even as he let Shadrach step up on the front bar of the shopping cart and he ran across the parking lot, smiling at her squeal of excitement. He was going to need to get some money and fast but it wasn’t like he could take the little girl with him into the bar while he hustled some people at pool. It was all turning out to be way more complicated than Dean had originally anticipated and it didn’t seem like it was going to get any easier.

No matter how many missing children fliers he scanned, Shadrach was not listed, and even a search online at a library they’d popped into so Shadrach could change had turned up nothing. It seemed like a girl with the name Shadrach would be easy to find, even without a last name – which Dean still hadn’t been able to get out of her – but it was proving to be impossible.

This is how they ended up on Sam’s street two days later. After all these years, Dean had never anticipated being reacquainted with his brother this way. There had always been secret fantasies he’d harboured – Sam spotting him one time when he was stopping by to secretly check in, they would hug and hold each other close. And Sam would be so _happy_ to see him. Or the one where Sam would call him out of the blue and insist Dean come and save him from his dull and dreary life. But Dean highly doubted turning up at his door with a mysterious little girl, no phone call in warning, was going to win back Sam’s affection.

And never in the way Dean truly wanted it.

“Who lives here?” Shadrach asked curiously as she tucked Winslow Bear beneath her arm and slid her free hand into Dean’s.

“My brother Sam,” Dean said softly as the stepped up the front walk. Heart lurching at the sight of the Impala in the driveway. They climbed the short steps and he stared at the door, heart rate stuttering unevenly. There was no way he could do this. It was impossible. He couldn’t face Sam after so many years. Especially not when Sam had his own life, a career, a house, a fucking _wife_. Dean was an ass to even consider laying this on his brother’s shoulders. He was just about to pull Shadrach away when the ring of the doorbell sounded beyond the wooden door. Darting his eyes down, he watched Shadrach step back, finger still pointed from where it had pressed the button. “Why did you do that?” He breathed in surprise.

Shadrach looked up at him with curious eyes, “Didn’t think you were strong enough to take the first step.”

It’s another one of those comments that has Dean’s mind stumbling to catch up. There was something _off_ about this little girl and Dean really couldn’t put his finger on it. He opened his mouth to respond but the words died in his throat as the door pulled open and he found himself facing his brother for the first time in years. “Sam…”

The smile faded from Sam's face as he realized who was standing at his front door. He stood there, his suit jacket in his hand, staring at Dean's face, until he was jolted by Jess calling out to him from the living room.

"Sweetheart? Who's there?"

Sam turned briefly to call back, "no one - don't worry, Hon." He narrowed his eyes, "what do you want?"

Dean winched slightly and shifted back. He was tempted to turn and bolt but the little girl at his side kept him rooted to the spot. Sam's eyes hadn't dropped down yet so Dean knew he hadn't seen her, knew there was just a brief span of time to say something before Sam noticed. "I..."

"Hello!" Shadrach said cheerfully and pressed against Dean's side, arm snacking out to curl around Dean's leg as she blinked up at Sam.

Sam blinked at the sound of the small voice and finally managed to drag his eyes away from Dean's and look down. His eyes found a tiny face smiling up at him, framed by braids. Brown hair, a similar colour to Dean's. Sam's gaze followed her grip, her tiny arm wrapped around Dean's leg. He took a step back and his eyes snapped back up to Dean's face. "What do you want?"

"Look Sam... I'm sorry to just show up this way. But I... I need some help," Dean let his hand come to rest on Shadrach's head and he sighed softly. "And before you snap again, this... she's not my daughter. This is Shadrach. She's lost..."

Shadrach caught her lower lip around a smile and stepped forward slightly, extending her arm while keep the other still loosely curled around Dean's. "Nice to meet you Dean Bean's Brother Sam." She said solemnly, offering her hand to Sam with big bright blue eyes.

Sam's eyes drifted back to the little girl again and he pried his fist open long enough to bend down and engulf her small hand in his for a few moments. "Hello." His voice was strained, his body trembling. Dean hadn't had the balls to even call Sam in over eight years and now he showed up out of the blue with a kid. Sam realized he was still holding the little girls hand and released her, straightening to his full height again. "Listen," he couldn't even say his brother's name, "I... I... don't know what you want, you want money? What do you need?" He stuck his hand in the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out his wallet, "I have about three hundred, is that enough?"

"What? No Sam I don't want your money," Dean shook his head. Every part of him was thrumming with an energy he hadn't felt in years. It was all so _wrong_. His mind stumbled over the right things to say for a few minutes before he realized there was _nothing_ right to say.

Shadrach stepped beside him and tugged on his arm, "Dean Bean..." she said softly but Dean continued to stare at Sam. "Deannnn..." she whined the name this time and Dean sighed and bent in half, looking at her expectantly. Shadrach glanced at Sam for a moment before stepping close to Dean and cupping her hand around his ear, whispering quietly, "Winslow Bear and I have to go number _one_."

Dean couldn't help the small release of a chuckle, enjoying how it lifted some of the tension from his shoulders. Pushing back up he met Sam's eyes. "She needs to go to the bathroom. Do you think... could we just... come in? For a minute? I promise we won't bother you or Jess long."

The last thing that Sam wanted was Dean in his house, _shit_ the last thing he wanted was Dean anywhere near him. Jess. _OhGod_. Sam ran his hand threw his hair and realized he was still holding his suit jacket. He looked confused momentarily. How could he say no to a little kid? "Okay - bathroom - then..." his eyes drifted back up to Dean's face, "I want you gone." There was no emotion in Sam's voice; he had spent eight years learning how to get rid of them altogether.

He turned and left the door open behind him, tossing his suit jacket over the wooden butler by the front door. "This way," he moved through the long hallway, assuming Dean and... the girl were behind him, through his library and into the lounge. He turned and swallowed, gesturing to the door off the lounge, "in there."

"Here," Shadrach held out Winslow Bear for Dean, waiting until he took before darting into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

This was a stupid idea. In fact, this was probably the _stupidest_ idea Dean had ever had, and the list was pretty long. With a quiet sigh he shuffled nervously on his feet and couldn't help glancing around. The inside of their house was just as nice as the outside. Dean had always wondered what it look like, if it would remind him of Sam. It didn't. Not a thing about it outside the books made him think of his brother. Even the man in front of him, so cold and distant... "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have come. I just... didn't have anywhere to..." he trailed off and shook his head. _Stupid._ "We'll be gone as soon as she's done." He swallowed thickly and dropped his gaze.

"You're right, you shouldn't have come." It was the first thing that came into Sam's mind and the last thing he expected to ever have to say. "I... I don't _want_ you here." He said it softly, almost as though he was convincing himself. He stumbled back a few steps and bumped softly into the bookshelf. What the hell was going on? How had Dean suddenly managed to turn Sam back into the heart-broken seventeen year old he'd spent his life trying to leave behind?

Dean tried to pretend that those words didn't hurt more than anything he'd felt in the past four years but it was no use. Hell, since the very moment Sam had left his life it was all just one constant stream of hurt. His eyes drifted to Winslow Bear in his grasp. What was he going to do about Shadrach? The last thing he wanted was to call up his dad - god, it had been almost six months since their last conversation - and get an ear full on how he should have dropped the kid off at a police station and washed his hands of it. "I know it's not going to mean much - or anything really - but... your place is nice. Seems like you've really made a life for yourself... lawyer and all... it's... good." He wet his lips and risked a glance up, squeezing the bear between his fingers as if it could provide him the same level of comfort it provided Shadrach.

Sam barked out a surprised laugh. "Do you think I _care_ what you think of my house? What the _fuck_ are you doing here?" His voice was soft, angry, strained. Dean's face had aged, there were slight lines at the corners of his eyes, frown lines. His hair was still the same colour, probably felt the same too, Sam could even see the small curls at the back of his brother's neck. He was still staring, waiting for Dean to give him some reason, something that would make Sam understand why he was there. Why he was stirring up the feelings and hurt that Sam had managed to stuff down all these years.

Gesturing toward the bathroom door with the bear, Dean lifted his shoulders and tried not to let the pain flicker across his features. "Shadrach... I... I'm trying to find where she belongs. I found her along the side of the road and I've searched everywhere... she says her parents are dead, there's no missing child's report on her. I've run out of money and I don't know what to do next." The words came tumbling out before he could phrase them right, make them sound less desperate and confused. Oh well, didn't matter much, it was clear Sam could care less about the situation.

Sam blew out the breath he didn’t' even know he was holding. "Then take her to the police, this is... fucking outrageous." He paced across the room and ran his hand through his hair again. "I said I'd give you money..."

"Boys!" Jess swept into the room, heels clicking on the hardwood floor, "such language in the presence of a lady." She beamed her usual smile at Sam and came to a halt in a cloud of expensive perfume right in front of Dean. Her eyes travelled quickly over his worn jacket and torn jeans, "Sam, sweetheart, who _are_ you hiding in here?"

Sam stepped up to Jess' elbow, hand sliding automatically to her small waist. "Jessica, this is..." his breath hitched in his chest, he hadn't said his brother's name since the day he'd left their home, "Dean. We used to work together." One of the things he'd learned being a lawyer was never to lie, it was always better just to omit pieces of the truth.

Jess extended her hand and shook Dean's, "well, any friend of Sam's... will you stay for dinner Dean?"

Sam's fingers squeezed Jess' waist, "he was just leaving, he's waiting for his..."

After yanking open the door, Shadrach stepped into the room and fixed her eyes on the three of them. Dean watched the way the blue eyes narrowed slightly upon landing on Jess and she slid across to him, taking back the bear and half stepping behind Dean. For the millionth time since he met the child, Dean thought about how he _really_ didn't get kids. She had seemed more than willing to be nice to Sam and his brother had come off as anything but pleasant.

Resolutely ignoring the flash of pain still lingering from his brother's slight - _we used to work together_ \- Dean cleared his throat and let his hand fall down on Shadrach's shoulder. "Thank you for the invitation, but we really should be getting on the road. I uh... there's lots of things we have to do."

"Is Sammy going to help us?" Shadrach asked softly, looking up at Dean before looking back to Sam.

Dean shook his head and squeezed the girl's shoulder softly, hoping she'd get the queue and realizing how stupid that was a moment later. "No Shaddy, Sam's... busy. With work." He forced himself to look up and paint a polite smile on his face. "Thanks again, sorry for the intrusion."

Jess beamed at the little girl, "it's no intrusion. Good _grief_ Sam, did you leave your manners at the firm again today?" She shook her head as she looked up at Sam, flashing him the _we'll-talk-about-this-later_ glare. Jess turned back to face Dean, her eyes moving over his tall, muscular frame. Slipping her arm through his she turned him to begin walking him back through the library to the dining room, "I'd love to hear some stories about my Sam and I'm sure you must have some, Dean. Dinner's ready, we'll just have it brought out sooner - I always have enough for surprise guests."

Sam blinked as they disappeared around the corner leaving him alone with the little girl. He cleared his throat, "okay, it's uh... that way..." he gestured to the door Jess and Dean had just exited through.

Shadrach considered Sam quietly for a moment before moving to the big chair behind the desk and trailing her finger along the cool leather. "Is this your chair? Did you have to have it made special ‘cause you're so big?" She blinked up at him with curious eyes, smiling softly.

Scratching his forehead nervously, Sam looked a little confused again, "What? No... no... I just seem big... because you're really small." Sam could count the number of total minutes he'd spent with children one both hands. He had no idea how to speak to them, or what they wanted. This one, in particular, seemed to be a little strange. "We have to go in the other room... uh... Shadr... what's your name?"

"Shadrach," She smiled and climbed up into the chair, legs just barely coming over the edge. "And this Winslow Bear." She held the bear to indicate before positioning him in her lap and laying her hands across the arm rests. "Your house is very pretty Sammy. It's really too bad you're so sad." She giggled slightly and rocked herself back and forth, trying to make the chair move.

Blinking, Sam stared open mouthed, "d... don't call... my name is Sam." He held out his hand thinking there was no other way he was going to get her out of his chair. "We need to go into the other room."

"Dean Bean is so very sad too... are your parents in Heaven like mine?" She brought her hands together on the bear, stroking its fur softly.

"No... yeah..." Sam dragged a hand down his face and glanced at the door, wondering when Dean would come back to rescue him. The likelihood of him escaping Jessica wasn't very high though. "I don't believe in heaven." Sam didn't believe in much anymore and he didn't want to have a theoretical religious discussion with a kid. "Listen kid, it's dinner time. I'm hungry and - your friend... is in there... Dean... don't you want to go and see him?"

Shadrach blinked at him for several moments before sliding out of the chair and crossing the room to him, linking their hands together. "But then where do the angels come from?" She asked, head tilting all the way back to peer at him curiously.

"I dunno, kid, ask Dean... if memory serves he thinks he knows everything." Sam walked the little girl out of the office and back down the hallway, glancing down at her as they crossed the foyer. "Just over there he said," gently trying to pull his hand out of her grasp. For someone with such little fingers she had a pretty good hold on him.

Jess smiled as they walked into the room, "I was just going to send a search party." She laughed, but Sam found it to be a hollow and emotionless sound. He was used to that. His brow furrowed slightly when Shadrach's fingers squeezed his hand a little tighter just for a few moments. He pulled out a chair for her, "here, sit... there..." He waited for her to let go of his hand.

Biting her lower lip, Shadrach looked over at Dean, waited for him to nod before climbing up into the chair and laying Winslow Bear across her lap. "Thank you Sammy." She smiled at him for a moment before looking at the table.

Dean was in his own personal hell. The _last_ thing he wanted to do was have dinner with the brother who hated him - who he still was madly love with - and his overly done up, bouncy blond haired wife. "This really isn't necessary," he tried again, though he knew it was pointless. Obviously Jess was the type of person to not take no for an answer. She came off more than a little pushy and Dean couldn't help wondering what Sam saw in her. Maybe it was the fact that she was clearly the exact opposite of himself.

Sam picked up the bottle of wine on the table and poured Jess a glass then moved around to stand beside Dean, "wine? Or would you like me to check the fridge for something less provincial?" Sam didn't see how he was going to eat anything but he was certainly going to drink. After he poured himself a glass of wine he put the bottle down and sat down opposite Jess.

"Shad? Sweetie," Jess' voice was syrupy sweet, "would you like a soda or something?"

"It's Shadrach and I will take water thank you," she said shortly and Dean's eyes fixed on her.

Something was definitely up there and he wondered what Jess had done to make Shadrach dislike her so instantly. "I'll take water too," he added, dropping into the chair beside Shadrach and reaching out to brush one of the girl's braids over her shoulder. Her hand came up to rest on his arm for a moment and she gave him a sad smile that looked almost... sympathetic. Dean took his hand back and blinked at the girl before dropping his eyes to his plate.

Sam raised his glass of wine in Jess' direction, "well, here's to..." he blew out a breath "co-workers." He didn't even wait for anyone else to respond, just downed his glass of wine and poured himself another one. There wasn't enough wine in the world for this meal.

Jess blinked a few times across the table at Sam, "Honey, could you help me with the meal, Karen left it all out for us." She smiled across at Dean, "excuse us for just a moment." Sam drained the second glass of wine and put the empty glass back on the table and pushed his chair back to stand and follow Jess out of the room.

She turned on him the moment the kitchen door swung closed behind him, "Jesus Sam, what the hell is wrong with you? You were halfway to being drunk when you got home, _as_ usual, do you think you could just stop long enough to not pass out in front of our guests?" Her eyes were blazing.

Sam let his head fall back and squeezed his eyes shut, "he's not company Jess, you invited him - I don't even want him here. I..." He pulled his head back up and stared down at her, "I barely know him." It didn't even hurt anymore to realize that was the truth.

"Well, just stop being such an ass, you want to be drunk every moment we're alone? Fine... but don't embarrass me." She picked up a plate of roast beef off the counter and handed it to Sam, "take that in, I'll be right behind you with the vegetables."

The moment they disappeared from sight Dean turned to Shadrach and pushed up. "Come on, if we hurry we can be out the door before they get back."

Shadrach blinked at him and shook her head. "Nuh uh, we're going nowhere. Sit down Dean Bean, we're gonna eat dinner." She smiled sweetly at him, eyes glinting as if she dared him to press the issue.

Dean was _not_ intimidated by a seven year old but he dropped back down into his seat regardless. "Sam doesn't want us here. Shaddy... we should go. I have a feeling it's only going to get worse. And Jess is not..."

"I don't like her," Shadrach whispered softly, leaning forward before pushing back against her chair. "But we stay. For Sammy." She smiled again and looked up at the door as the man in question returned.

"Roast beef," Sam announced as he came through the swinging door. He slid the plate on to the table in between Shadrach and Dean. "Help yourselves."

Jess slide two bowls of vegetables onto the table, "green bean casserole and mashed potato with garlic and cream - Sam's favourite. You'll have to forgive my husband, Dean, he's a man of rather plain taste and on Friday’s he chooses the menu." She smiled and moved quickly to the sideboard to get dinner plates for everyone. Moving around the table quickly she put one in front of everyone, "you'll have to forgive us for being so casual, Dean. Sam's always insisted we don't need as many staff as we should _probably_ have to run a home this size."

Sam rolled his eyes and opted for another glass of wine rather than food. He leaned back in his chair, studying his brother's face.

Dean couldn't tear his eyes off the mashed potatoes. He was fairly certain he was going to be sick. There was no way he could do this and he wondered how much of a scene it would cause if he just jumped up, curled his arm around Shadrach and carried her out of the house. Probably a really big scene that wouldn't end too well. He certainly wasn't going to be able to eat anything, that was for sure.

"You sure ask for forgiveness a lot," Shadrach mused quietly, fixing her eyes on Jess. "Does that mean you've done a lot of really bad things?" The question was innocent enough but Dean couldn't help turning to her with slightly wide eyes. He was half tempted to high five her but somehow he didn't see that going over that well. "Dean Bean, can I have some potatoes please?"

Dean bit his lip and reached out for the dish, not meeting Sam's eyes and certainly not responding to Shadrach's comment. A smile turned up just the corner of his lips though as he scooped a serving of mashed potatoes on Shadrach's plate.

Sam turned to look at Shadrach slowly, a glaze already present in his eyes from the wine. "It's polite to ask for forgiveness, Shad. When you do something wrong." But, it was Dean's eyes that locked with Sam's when he spoke the last sentence. Sam could feel his jaw twitching under the watchful gaze of his brother. He thought for a moment, that Dean just looked sad, but that wouldn't even make sense. If Dean had cared at all, he would have showed up before eight years passed. Sam tore his eyes away from his brothers. "Well, eat up people." The sooner everyone finished their meal the better.

"Oh," Shadrach said softly and took a bite of her potatoes. Dean sighed a little in relief, glad she wasn't going to say more. But then her tiny mouth opened again and he was already wincing. This was just... crap. "Well then you must do a lot of wrong things Sammy, since Jessica has to ask for forgiveness for you so much." She smiled and ate another bite of potatoes. "Mmm these are really good."

Dean took a long drink of water and cut off some meat to put on Shadrach's plate. "Shaddy, let's not pester our um... hosts." He set some meat on his own plate though he doubted he'd get more than a bite down.

"Shad - you are a very astute little girl." Sam leaned forward resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin up on it. He slowly twisted his wine glass on the table, "I make a lot of mistakes, it's all part of the Winchester charm." Laughing, he leaned back in his chair, tossing his unused napkin on his empty plate.

Jess' smile was thin when she looked down the table at her husband. "Sam, perhaps you should just excuse yourself and wait for Dean in your office, let the man eat his meal in peace." There was an angry flush on her cheeks and Sam knew there was going to be hell to pay later. He smiled. Nothing Jess could say to him later would be any worse than sitting at this table with his brother.

"I'm fine right here, Jess." Sam took another long drink of wine. "Dean and I will have a talk as soon as he's finished eating - nothing wrong with a little friendly chatter is there, Shad?" He smiled at the little girl.

Shadrach tilted her head and looked at Sam. "I like to talk about flowers." She offered with a smile and ate from her plate for a few bites before launching into a story about her favourite flowers.

Dean was actually relieved to have her there as a type of buffer. The constant chatter made the whole thing a lot less uncomfortable. Or at least made it easier to stare at his plate, poke at the food with his fork, and pretend like every part of him wasn't aching. Sam was drunk - or getting there very fast - and Dean knew it wasn't a good sign. Judging from the looks Jess was shooting her husband; it seemed to be a common place thing. Dean wondered how much of the story he was really missing, having only caught bits and pieces over the years whenever he came by to watch from afar.

At some point Dean tuned out Shadrach's voice, let it fade to background noise so he could swim in his own misery for awhile. This wasn't how things should be and Dean knew it just like he knew the best way to get rid of a ghost or the signs of a potential hunting. Facts, logic, all the reason Dean had prided himself on for so long and now it was staring him in the face. This was who they were and exactly how they shouldn't be. Whatever that meant, Dean knew it was true.

When Shadrach's considerations on Disney cut off midsentence, he looked up from his still untouched food, wondering what he'd missed. Jess was pushing back from the table, ringing cell phone in hand and Dean's eyes followed her before turning to fix on Sam.

"Not enjoying your dinner there, Dean?" Sam sniffed and sipped from his wine glass.

"Not hungry," Dean offered with a shrug, dropping his gaze. "Not seeing you eat much. Surprising since this is the meal _you_ picked out."

"You're walking a fine line here, be careful." There was venom in his voice. Sam slid his wine glass away from him. "What do you need to get you out of here; you just need money, yeah? Money to take care of the kid?"

Dean's shoulder's stiffened and he pushed his plate away from him. "I said I don't need your money. I just..." his eyes darted to the curiously wide ones belonging to Shadrach before turning back to Sam. "I need someone to look after her while I get money. Can't bring her into a bar with me."

Sam rubbed his hands down over his face. "Fine, whatever, you want me to drive you over there and sit outside with the kid for an hour while you - do whatever it is that is, obviously, far more efficient than just taking money from me." Stretching his body out on the chair he reached in his pocket and pulled out his car keys, dangling them off his fingers, "fine, let's go then. Get this shit over with."

"Not with you like that I'm not," Dean snapped. "I may do stupid shi... stuff," his eyes darted once more to Shadrach, who seemed to be watching the entire interaction with intense curiosity. "But I sure as hell ain't _that_ stupid. You're _definitely_ not driving and I might as well take her in a bar considering how much help you'll be in your state. You'll probably pass out within the first few minutes." He rolled his eyes and shook his head, pushing out of the chair as well. "So no thanks. We'll just get out of here. Come on Shadrach." Dean held out his hand and waited.

Shadrach looked up at him but didn't move, simply turned to look at Sam and waited.

Jess burst through the kitchen door once more, "sorry boys, I have to go." She looked pointedly at Sam, "Carolyn has had a bit of a problem this evening and I need to go over and, you know, do the _friend_ thing. Don't wait up Sam."

Sam chuckled at the absurdity of the situation and didn't even bother to walk Jess out. He looked over at Dean, "Well, this ought to be interesting." The sound of Jess slamming the front door behind her ran through the house.


	3. Chapter 3

The silence between them in the wake of the door shutting was intense, thick and heavy, laying over Dean like a smothering blanket. Something about the way Jess had said her words, the look Sam had on his face - the even weirder look Shadrach had on hers - made Dean feel like he was missing something important. With a slight sigh he moved as if to scoop Shadrach up off the chair but the little girl pushed up first, smoothing down the front of her dress and looking at them both. "I'm sleepy," She said softly and reached up to rub at one eye with her fist. "Can I lie down for a little while?" She turned to Sam and smiled up at him.

Sam blinked at her. "I... uh... I suppose so." He pushed back from the table glaring at Dean. Sam leaned heavily on the back of his chair until he could focus his eyes properly then held out a hand to Shadrach. "Come on kid."

Shadrach stepped forward and slipped her hand into Sam's glancing over at Dean with a smile, "Don't go anywhere while I'm sleepin' okay?" She waited until Dean nodded before following Sam out of the room.

Dean watched them go, body shaking slightly. He stared at the table for a minute before heading out of the room as well and into the living room, crossing his arms around his chest and walking over to the mantel. Each framed picture there seemed to tell the story of Sam and Jess' life. Together on campus, holding hands at the beach, their wedding day. Dean's eyes lingered on Sam's features, trying to decide if the smile on his face was real or fake. There was no way to tell and for the first time in years Dean let himself acknowledge that fact that he didn't know Sam anymore. That he probably never would again.

If it were possible, Dean's heart broke just a little more.

Sam's hand felt so huge over Shadrach's. He was almost afraid to even grip her fingers but she was holding on tight anyway and he was pretty sure he wouldn't lose her on the way to the living room. "This way," he said, far more softly than he'd been speaking all evening.

"You have very nice things Sammy," Shadrach commented, swinging Winslow Bear in her other arm. "Do you suppose you'll miss them?" She tilted her head up to gaze at Sam before dropping her gaze and giggling. "I really want to swing but Dean Bean said we can't stop at a playground until we figure out where I belong, or how we're gonna pay for stuff. Cause he spent all his money at the Wal store thingy. I got new dresses. Do you like this one?" She gestured down to the bright blue dress she wore.

Dean spent all his money on dresses. "It's very nice," Sam said softly. "Shad, where are your mom and dad? Why are you with Dean?" He looked down at the little girl.

"I told you silly! My parents are in Heaven!" Shadrach looked up to meet Sam's gaze then smiled. "Dean Bean found me. I was walking by the road and he pulled over. Winslow Bear decided he looked friendly so we went with him. And then he bought me a cheeseburger with a _chocolate_ milkshake." She stopped as they came inside the guest room and looked around. "Oh it's so pretty! Like a picture from a magazine." She detached herself from Sam and crossed to the bed, tracing the blanket under her fingers. "I bet this bed is soft. The bed's at the motels aren't very soft and the blankets are too thin but Dean let's me sleep with him so I stay warm." She smiled over at Sam and pressed her hand hard down into the mattress. "Yup. Soft."

"Well," Sam shrugged, "you can sleep here for a while." He stood there awkwardly for a few moments, "do you need a hand?"

Shadrach climbed up onto the bed and pulled off her shoes, tugging back the blanket and frowning when it didn't move. "It's stuck." She looked over at Sam with wide eyes and frowned.

Sam couldn't help smiling, "yeah, Jess makes these things so tight you need a crowbar to get into 'em." He yanked the cover back and held it up so she could climb under.

"Thank you," she beamed at him as she slid under the blanket and nestled back into the pillow. "Will you make sure Dean Bean doesn't leave without me?" She asked softly, blinking up at him as he nodded. "And Sammy?"

"Yeah kid?" Sam almost reached out to tuck her in, and then changed his mind at the last minute.

"He really misses you," she said the words softly then rolled over so she wasn't laying on her backpack, pulling the bear into her arms and letting her eyes fall closed.

Sam's heart flipped a little in his chest, he just wasn't sure if it was anger, fear or worse. He backed away from the bed slowly and closed the door quietly behind him.

Sam moved slowly back through the house to the living room, where he found Dean, looking at the photos scattered around the room. "So... here we are - alone at last," his voice was cold. "Drink?" Sam moved over to the bar and slid behind it. "Whiskey?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. No point in trying to not drink now, especially when he was fairly certain it was going to be the only thing to get him through whatever the hell was coming next. He walked over to the bar, curling his fingers around the glass once Sam had poured the amber liquid in it and draining it in three long swallows. It burned down his throat, settling into his empty stomach almost pleasantly. He hadn't drunk in almost five days, since Shadrach had come into the picture, and it felt nice and familiar. Something he could cling to in the sudden upheaval. He set the glass back on the bar and let his hand rest on the wood. "So... was she okay? Shadrach?" He asked, oddly feeling the need to check up on the girl.

"Of course, what do you think I did to her?" Sam loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. "So..." he shrugged, "I got nothin'. Eight years and you never even..." Sam looked down at his drink.

"Didn't feel right to come back in and ruin the life you had going," Dean said softly, tracing his finger along the rim of the glass. "You had all these friends, then Jess. I kept telling myself I'd call but then... well you got into law school, started making something of yourself and I knew anything I had to say would just be..." he shrugged and shifted his feet, scratching at his chin for a moment. "It'd be trite, or pointless, or too little too late. You looked so happy, didn't want to ruin that."

The lawyer in Sam was paying attention - even though he was half way down the road to good and drunk. "Dean, how do _you_ know what friends I had? Why do you know..." Sam put his drink down on the bar and moved around to stand right behind Dean's back. He leaned forward, lips to Dean's ear, "you were watching me, and were you there that first year when I couldn't get through a week without crying? Did you notice how I couldn't get it up when I picked up a guy? Where you there for all that Dean?"

"Jesus Sam," Dean hissed, hands curling along the edge of the bar for a moment before he turned against Sam's body, backing up until he was flush against the bar. Heat soared through him, more intense than anything he'd felt since... well... since eight years ago and the last time Sam and he found themselves alone together. "Don't think I didn't go through hell during that time either." He tried to make the words bite but they sounded simply broken. He stored Sam's words, decided he'd think on them later when his brother wasn't inches from him.

Sam leaned in and moved his lips so close to Dean's he could feel the puff of breath that left his brother's mouth. "Come back to finish what you started?" Sam was drunk... he knew he was, but man, it was sure hard to censor his racing mind. After all the time he'd harbour such hostility toward his brother.

Dean slid along the bar until he could step out of his brother's way, crossing the room in several quick strides. "You're drunk Sam. Go sleep it off. We'll be gone in the morning and you can go back to pretending I don't exist." The words lacked any heat even though every part of Dean's body felt consumed by it. Dean couldn't do any of the things his brain was turning over. Couldn't slam Sam up against the wall and ravish his mouth the way he wanted. Couldn't soak in Sam's heat. Couldn't pull him close and tell him that after all these years he still loved him and he was so _sorry_ for the way things were, the way he'd let them become. Dean was simply stuck waiting for his brother's next move and wondering how much longer it would take before he finally broke passed the point of any repair.

"M'not drunk enough, Dean, never drunk enough." A sadness started to settled in the pit of Sam's stomach. He looked over at his brother, "you know... you ruined my life." He took a step closer and put his drink down. "You ever wondered what happened to me? I can tell you. I have a job I could care less about, a wife who's fucking around on me, and I drink almost every night until I can't remember how it feels to kiss you. How's that for a life?" Sam was swaying back and forth slowly, his eyelids getting heavier.

Sucking in a sharp breath, Dean clutched at his shirt, physically _hurt_ by the words that slurred from Sam's lips. "Shit." He blinked rapidly, knees dipping and he reached out to steady himself on the wall. He hadn't anticipated the blow, hadn't thought Sam would actually take up the challenge of breaking him further. "I'm so..." Dean chocked on a sudden and surprised sob. "Damnit Sam I'm so fucking sorry. This isn't... I never meant to hurt you like this. I love you so god damn much and all it's done is ruin _everything_ and every day I have to force myself not to think of you and you..." he turned to look at his brother, considered the swaying form before crossing to him. Obviously Sam was about ten seconds from passing out and Dean sure as hell wasn't going to let him crash into something. He hesitated beside him, bracing himself for a rapid lurch forward the moment Sam fell. "Sam..." he breathed his brother's name, staring at him with concerned eyes.

It was so hard to concentrate. Sam just wanted to touch Dean one last time then go back to the life he had struggled so hard to create. He took a hesitant step forwards and the world started to tilt sideways and he stumbled and started to fall.

Dean's arms opened as he stepped into his brother's body, catching him with a soft grunt. Heat exploded over every place they touched and Dean closed his eyes for a moment, taking in a shuddering inhale of Sam's scent. But it was too laced with the stench of alcohol and try as he might, Dean couldn't find that underlying scent of familiarity. "C'mon, to bed." Dean grumbled as he dragged Sam down the hall, hoping it led toward the bedroom. He thought about Jess' earlier _don't wait up_ and Sam's revelation. It made him sick to his stomach. The whole thing did. And it was Dean's fault on top of all of it. Sam was downright miserable all because of him. Yeah, it was an outrageously stupid idea to come here. How the hell was Dean even supposed to go on living now? Knowing he'd ruined everything for Sam.

He pulled Sam into the first room he reached with a bed, not flipping on a light to try and figure out if it was Sam's. His brother was nearly dead weight in his arms and much more built than he had been at seventeen. Dean slid him onto the mattress, letting his hands glide for a moment along the defined curve of the man's arm. Dean hadn't allowed himself to take stock of the changes before but now he stared down at his brother and memorized the changes. Who knew when he'd see him again anyway? If he ever would. Dean had this feeling Sam would punch him if he should up randomly again one day.

"Shoes off," Dean muttered, tugging at the laces on Sam's shoes - loafers, seriously? Dean wished he could tease him about it but they'd never be _that_ normal again. After a moment he dropped both shoes to the ground before moving back up to the man's body and pulling off the tie the rest of the way. Everything else Sam was going to have to sleep in, there was no way he was undressing him any further. He lingered to the side of the bed for a moment, fingers coming out to trace the curve of Sam's jaw line. The man was completely gone, probably wouldn't even remember their conversation tomorrow. It was a good thing; Sam would likely just beat himself up over it if he did.

With a soft sigh he bent down and pressed a soft kiss to Sam's forehead, lingering on the skin for a moment before he pulled back. It would be easiest to just leave now, but the idea of leaving Sam so utterly drunk and passed out, alone in this house, was too much to bear. So instead he left the room and headed down the hall, opening a couple doors until he found the one that Shadrach was asleep in, curled in on herself in the middle of the bed.

Smiling just slightly Dean kicked off his shoes and jeans before climbing into the bed next to her, not really that surprised when she automatically shifted to snuggle against his side. "Dean?" She said sleepily, blinking blurry eyed up at him.

"Shh, go back to sleep," he insisted, glancing toward the open door and wondering if he'd be able to hear Sam should something happen in the middle of the night.

"I'm sorry it hurts so much," Shadrach whispered again and shifted up the length of his body to press a kiss against his cheek before climbing back down and situating herself along Dean's side.

Her breaths had long since returned to normal before Dean realized he'd been crying silently, body shaking, heart aching more than it ever had before. Shadrach's words bounced around his mind and he nodded. He was sorry too.

Sam woke up with bits and pieces of the night before flying through his mind. When he managed to pry his eyes opened he realized he was in one of the guest bedrooms and a puzzled look flashed across his face. _Dean_. He sat up quickly, regretting it almost instantly. A dull throb started somewhere deep behind his eyes, "fuck," he muttered. Stretching slightly he pushed up off the bed, glancing at his shoes where they lay on the floor. He rubbed his hand through his hair and wandered out of the room and down the hall. He stopped for a moment in front of the room he'd left Shadrach in - then quietly pushed the door open.

His hand settled over his mouth, the strangest sensation of jealously uncoiling deep inside Sam's chest. The long dark evenings full of nightmares and terrors came flooding back to Sam, curling up against Dean's chest - the smell of his brother, sleep-warm and young, skin smelling of the day's sunshine and summer air. Sam cleared his throat, "Dean?" The name was still so unfamiliar on his tongue and Sam's voice was still thick and rough with too much liquor and talking. Stepping forward hesitantly, Sam reached down and shook the bottom of the bed. "Dean - it's time to get up."

Dean was dreaming about a time, maybe fifteen years ago, when Sam had woken him in the middle of the night with one of his nightmares. Dean hated the sound of his brother's whimpers and cries so he'd climbed out of bed and crossed to him, sliding in beside him. In the morning Sam had tried to push him off and insist he wasn't a _child_ but Dean had simply pulled him closer and held him there until Sam gave in and nestled against him. "Mm Sammy too early," he mumbled and shifted his arm around the body at his side. "Go back to sleep," he added and smacked his lips together, shifting on the bed without opening his eyes.

It felt like there was a fist inside Sam's chest wringing the blood out of his heart and a moan of pain escaped his lips before he even knew what was happening. He couldn't be around this; it was dredging up too much... stuff. "Dean!" He raised his voice and stepped around the bed. He scratched his head and then reached down, fingers shaking as they landed on his brother's shoulder. He shoved rougher than he meant to, "Dean, get up." Sam stepped back quickly.

Eyes snapping open, Dean shot up in bed, pulling Shadrach almost instantly across his body and holding her close. He would have reached under his pillow for the gun he normally kept there if his mind hadn't snapped instantly to ensuring the well being of the girl. Things trickled forward pretty rapidly from there and his eyes darted over to his brother. The sharp pain sparked up almost instantly. "Sorry. Overslept. Meant to be gone before you woke so you didn't have..." his voice was rough and he was exhausted, probably because he hadn't had a decent night’s sleep in... well over eight years.

"Dean Bean?" Shadrach mumbled sleepily and shifted in his arms, rubbing her face into Dean's shoulders and curling her arms around him. "Can we have waffles?" She asked against his body.

"Sure Shaddy, we'll hit up a diner," Dean offered and kicked his legs off the side of the bed, arms still wrapped around the little girl, pointedly avoiding Sam's gaze.

Sam stepped back again, feeling strangely like the gangly teenager he once was; all arms and legs and not knowing what to say. "I..." he gestured toward the door behind him. "There are clean towels in the bathroom - you know - if you want to shower." Sam's feet kept moving, shuffling slowly back toward the hallway.

If Dean could have just _one_ wish, it would be for Sam and him to have just a moment - even as short as a thirty seconds long - in which they could stand together without the aching pain. Without the hurt looks - or scared looks - in which Dean could really, genuinely hug him, not because Sam was drunk and needed to be carried to bed. Didn't seem likely to come true any time soon and Dean sighed as he pushed up from the bed, arm sliding under Shadrach as her legs curled around his waist. He'd already adjusted to her early morning clinginess, though it often proved to be a problem - like now - when he really needed to head to the bathroom. The past few mornings he'd managed to hold it off but this time it wasn't going to be happening. "Sam," he said quickly before his brother could completely disappear out of the room. "Can you... take her for a second?"

Unable to meet his brother's eyes, Sam considered the options and couldn't come up with much of an excuse to say no. He nodded and moved back around the bed, holding his arms out awkwardly.

Dean barely shifted the girl on his arms before she clambered across him and into Sam's arms. He sucked in a sharp breath when his hand brushed against Sam's for a moment, dropping his eyes in hopes the man wouldn't notice. "Thanks. I'll be right back, gonna grab her duffel too." Crossing to the place he'd dropped his jeans the night before, Dean stepped into the, tugging them up sharply and heading out of the room.

Shadrach rubbed her face into Sam, shifting to get settled as her legs wrapped around his waist, arms around his neck. "Mornin' Sammy," she mumbled softly.

Smiling slightly, Sam hiked the little girl up in his arms and looked around the room. He moved over to the bed and sat down on the edge leaning his head closer to Shadrach's. She smelled good, that strange-little-kid smell. Sam pressed his eyes shut for a moment, still exhausted from the night before. Shoving himself back on the mattress he leaned up against the headboard, clasping his hands behind Shadrach's back. She was warm against Sam's chest, her weight reassuring and Sam closed his eyes. He was asleep again in a few minutes, arms wrapped around the little girl.

Dean's heart was thudding in his chest, though he didn't bother trying to figure out what it meant, outside of the usual pain. He snatched both his duffel and the hot pink one from the back seat and headed back into the house. As he traveled down the hall he found himself wondering if Jess was still gone. He couldn't believe she was sleeping around on him. You'd have to be a damn fool to give up someone like Sam. Obviously she was just that.

When he rounded the corner back into the room he stopped short. Sam was sleeping practically sitting up, or at least his eyes were closed. Swallowing thickly at the sight of the little girl curled around his chest, the way Sam's hand seemed so large against her back, Dean shook his head. Just looking at those hands had him thinking about what they felt like on him. "Shaddy?" He asked softly, sliding forward.

The body shifted against Sam, head tilting to the side to look at Dean with bright blue eyes. "Shh, Sammy's sleeping."

"Yeah, maybe you should take this time to go shower," Dean held up the bag. "Got your stuff right here."

"Can I take a bath instead?" Shadrach asked, bringing her arms down from around Sam's neck.

Dean sighed, "We're in a bit of a hurry Shaddy..." her lower lip jutted out in a pout, eyes growing sad, and Dean chuckled. "Alright fine. A bath. But a fast one. Come on," Dean held out his hand and she grinned brightly and climbed quickly off Sam, hopping to the floor and take Dean's hand.

Several minutes later he was closing the door to the bathroom with Shadrach's promise that she'd turn off the water before it got too full. He stood with his hand on the doorknob for a few minutes, trying to gain enough strength to head back to the room Sam was potentially still asleep in. Wetting his lips he walked slowly down the hall and stopped just inside the doorway, eyes lingering on his brother.

It would be so _easy_ to climb up on that mattress beside him, to curl into his side and breath in his scent. The consequences were too steep though and Dean shook his head, moving to pick up his duffel back and set it on the edge of the bed. "Sam?" He said the name softly, gazing at him for another moment before dropping his eyes. "Hey Sam?" Dean dragged open the zipper on his duffel just to have something to distract him.

Sam slid down further onto the bed muttering something. Trying to get comfortable, he stretched long and hard, his body bowing up off the bed. His hand fell out to the side, lips parted and he mumbled quietly.

Watching the curve of Sam's body, heat pooled low in Dean's belly. His brother was still as drop dead gorgeous as he'd always been, only more so because he was a man more than a boy and Dean couldn't help thinking over all the things he could do to that body. Stepping away from the bed was the only way he could ensure he wasn't going to reach out to touch Sam in any way. The urge was outrageously strong. His eyes darted around the room, trying to decide what to do next.

This time he dug into his duffel bag and pulled out a clean shirt and his deodorant. Having no idea where another bathroom was in the house - and knowing he'd rather not go snooping around the house his brother shared with his wife - Dean glanced once more at the sleeping Sam before tugging off his shirt. His eyes stayed fixed to the bag as he spread on the deodorant under his arms, tossing it back into the bag, hand coming up to caress the amulet around his neck as the other fist the clean shirt in his hand.

Sam blinked his eyes open and all he could see was his brother's tanned chest, strong fingers moving on the amulet that Sam had given him so many Christmas' ago. Sam's eyes narrowed, there were so many scars on Dean's chest now - hunting? Sam chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. They'd both changed so much. "Dean? You guys leaving soon?" As soon as he said it - he knew that Dean would interpret it the wrong way - it wasn't so much that he wanted his brother gone, he wanted to know how much time he had left to memorize his brother's features, the changes.

Starting in surprise at Sam's voice, Dean fumbled with his shirt, yanking it on inside out before sighing and retrying. "Uh... Shaddy insisted on taking a bath. She's... particular about some things." He stuffed his arms through the shirt once it was right side out and tugged it down his chest. "Sorry." He added, feeling like it was the only word outside of his brother's name that he'd really said in the past day. His eyes scanned Sam's legs on the bed as he moved forward to rezip the duffel. His brother was still in his business suit, the material all wrinkled but Dean still thought he looked good. Though he figured Sam could be wearing a mascot costume and still be stunning, and Dean was only a little biased.

Clearing his throat Sam pushed up to sit on the edge of the bed. He looked up at Dean, "now what?" _now what?_.

Lifting his eyes, Dean stepped back from the bed and rubbed his palm against his thigh. "I..." Where did he even begin with that? He couldn't say what he wanted. And he didn't have any idea what he should say. Wetting his lips he decided to go with his brotherly instincts, even if those hardly proved to be right. "God Sam... I wish I could say something, anything, to make it all better but I know I can't. I wish you could just forget this life and come with us because I need y-" he cut himself off, flinching at the words. He really hadn't planned on sprouting out that secret desire and - not for the first time - he wished there was a rewind button to take it all back. Putting it out there was just asking for Sam to reject it and he steeled himself for the angry words he was sure to receive next.

Sam shook his head slowly, "I wish you could make it all better too," he pushed up to his full height and moved over to stand beside his brother for a moment, "and let me offer you a piece of advice, don't ever _need_ someone. We all just let each other down." He couldn't help the way his hand fell against Dean's chest. After all those _fucking_ years, touching Dean was like second-nature to Sam. His palm didn't rest there for more a few seconds but the touch burned into his hand. Sam stepped back quickly, "I... I have waffles..." he backed towards the door, "I'll shower and change but... if you want I can get you breakfast. I know you have no money." He turned quickly and left the room heading down the hall as fast as his shaking legs would carry him.

"I've always needed you Sam," Dean whispered to the empty room, hand coming up to rest on the place Sam's hand had covered for brief moments. He swallowed thickly and dropped onto the edge of the bed, unable to hold himself up any longer.

Dean stared at the floor in front of him silently, seeking the familiarity of pain because it was the only thing he knew. He had no idea how much time passed until a tiny hand was sliding into his and Dean was looking up into bright blue eyes. Shadrach smiled and squeezed Dean's hand underneath hers. "Waffles?"

"Sam says he has some, want to go see?" He asked, reaching up smooth back a piece of hair that she'd missed when braiding her hair into its usual pig tails.

Shadrach stepped in between Dean's legs and wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug, "Give it time okay?"

When she stepped back Dean frowned curiously at her. There was really something weird about this kid. "Uh... alright." He nodded and pushed up, taking her hand. "Come on, let's eat breakfast. We really shouldn't spend too much more time here. Don't think I can handle it."

"Sure you can," Shadrach giggled and snagged Winslow Bear from the bed before heading with Dean into the kitchen.

Sam wasn't there yet and Dean hovered awkwardly for a moment until Shadrach dropped his hand and walked forward to start opening cabinets curiously. "Shaddy..." he shook his head, laughing softly. "Don't go through their stuff."

"I want waffles," she shrugged, pulling out a big box a moment later and turning to Dean with a bright grin. "From scratch! Do you know how to make them?"

Chuckling still, Dean stepped forward and picked up the girl, setting her on the counter as he went about opening cabinets to find a mixing bowl before moving to the fridge. Shadrach was entertaining herself with knock knock jokes and Dean played a long, laughing with her and enjoying the way it seemed to release the tension from his shoulders. He may not get the kid but she sure knew how to unwind some of the more tightly wound things in him.

Sam wandered down the hall to the master bedroom. Jess had spent weeks decorating it and Sam had never been less comfortable in a room. Unbuttoning his shirt he opened the double-doors into the walk-in closet , pulled his shirt off and tossing it in the hamper, once he had shucked off his suit pants – they went in to the dry cleaning bin. Sometimes, Sam wanted to smash the bins to pieces and throw the clothes all over the bedroom.

He padded back through the bedroom into the bathroom and stepped into the shower. He had no idea what he was feeling. _Dean_. Sam had easily convinced himself years ago that he would never see his brother again. He’d written Dean off as a bad memory, one of those turning points in his life. Sam had stopped telling people he had a brother well over seven years ago; there didn’t seem to be any point.

When Sam had first left home his life had been hell. He’d hitchhiked – not wanting to use the small amount of cash he had. For the first few days on the road relief would swell in Sam’s heart whenever he heard the low rumble of a classic car come up behind him on the road. But, it was never Dean. It took about three months before Sam’s heart was finally convinced that his brother wasn’t going to drive up behind him, a year before he stopped wondering if Dean would call. When it was gone, that _hope_ , it was just gone. From that point forward Sam had no brother.

Now, here he was standing in his shower, with his usual alcohol induced morning-dullness. He didn’t drink to forget things – he drank so he could feel something. At least when he was drunk he got angry sometimes. When he wasn’t drinking – he was the model of a perfect defence lawyer; unaffected emotionally by anything, had very little investment in personal relationships, analytical mind. The perfect husband for a wife who got what she needed elsewhere.

Sam shut off the shower and towelled off. The problem was, he felt something last night. When he opened the front door and saw Dean’s face he _felt_. That was the very moment when the well-built defences started to crumble. Sam tugged an old pair of Levi’s off a back shelf in the closet, he used them in the garden, and then he found one of the t-shirts he used when he was working at home. He felt better dressed less like a lawyer and more like... Well, like the Sam he might have been if his brother had loved him _enough_. He tugged his old boots on and went downstairs to find Dean.

Sam could hear laughter coming from the kitchen; of course, Shadrach, but he could hear that low chuckle of his brother's, the one that used to send shivers down his spine late at night when he would lie in bed and listen to Dean and his father talking. He pressed his hand to the swinging kitchen door and pushed it open. "Found everything you need?" His voice was soft and quiet but Shadrach and Dean both fell silent quickly. "S..Sorry, didn't mean to stop the fun." Sam stood by the door, scratching his arm nervously.

Stopping in the middle of stirring the batter in the bottle, Dean let his eyes drag down the full length of his brother's body. It was so familiar Dean could have pretended that nothing had ever changed, that this was just them, eight years in the future. And well... a little girl but that was a circumstantial thing. It made Dean's heart ache and quicken at the same time, "Uh... yeah. Sorry, we just sort of... it's Shaddy's fault."

Shadrach giggled and slapped her hand on Dean's arm. "I knew you wouldn't mind Sammy. Are you gonna eat some Waffles with us? Dean Bean's making enough for the three of us. And we found chocolate chips that he said he'd put in as long as I promised to eat one scrambled egg too." She grinned brightly and held up the bag of chocolate chips, legs knocking back and forth on the cabinet. "We're telling knock knock jokes. Got any good ones?"

Sam tried a slight smile for Shadrach, “sorry, kid, I don’t do jokes.” Taking a deep breath he moved over to the coffee pot on the opposite side of the kitchen and flicked it on. He might not have liked most of the things that they paid for – but having someone prepare the coffee pot so it was ready every morning wasn’t so bad. “You guys find everything you needed?” He didn’t turn to face Dean.

"We found mix, and milk, and eggs," Shadrach listed off and held out her arms to Dean. "Down?"

Dean turned to her, scooping her up and dropping her down on the ground a moment later. "Thanks Sam," he said softly as he went back to the batter in the bowl. "For letting us make breakfast here," he added, glancing over at Sam for a moment and taking another private moment to drink him in. Dean knew his time here - with Sam, standing only feet away - was coming to an end sooner than he'd like and he was trying to desperately to get a big enough fix of his brother to last the rest of his life. It Didn't seem likely that Sam would want to see him again after this.

"Sammy," Shadrach pulled off the backpack from around her shoulders and shifted through it for a moment before pulling out an item, clutching it in one tiny hand before slipping the backpack over her shoulders once more. She stepped forward and held up the button, sliding it in Sam's open hand. "It says 'Bee Happy' you know, cause there's a Bumble Bee on it! Get it?" She beamed at him as if this were the most clever thing ever and Dean stopped stirring the batter to glance once more at his brother and watch his reaction.

A few things happened at once, Sam’s hand curled too tight around the button and the pin stuck into his palm, he opened his mouth to say thank-you only to find that what came out was a sob. Then he panicked. Blinking away the tears that were on his face, he glanced up at Dean and whatever was left inside of him just shattered. He couldn’t do this. He’d invested too much in being _just Sam_.

He backed away for a few steps and shot through the door and didn’t stop until he was shut in the master bedroom once again, pacing, trying to get his breath under control, and wiping furiously at the tears on his face. When he managed to get his breathing into a semi-normal rhythm he leaned back against the wall and slid down burying his face in his hands. This had to stop now.

Blinking in surprise, Shadrach turned to Dean with slightly watery eyes to Dean. "Did I do something wrong?" She asked quietly.

Dean was a little stunned and he stared at the door before dropping his eyes and looking at Shadrach. "No Shaddy, Sam's just..." he shrugged softly and carried the bowl of batter to the fridge, tugging it open and putting it inside. "Can you play out here for a little bit without getting into anything? I really need..."

"It's okay, go make sure Sammy's okay," Shadrach smiled and dropped down onto the floor, sliding her backpack off her shoulders again and tugging it open.

Dean stared down at her for a moment before turning and walking slowly through the house, glancing into each room in turn. When he finally reached a closed door he stepped up to it, tapping once before he let his palm rest against the hard wood. "Sam?" He asked softly, heart racing in his throat. He should have just let Sam be, would probably regret following him in a few minutes, but that sob... the way his face had looked so utterly _broken_... Dean couldn't just leave him there.

Sam winced at the sound of the knock on the door and sat there froze for a few moments. Tugging his t-shirt up he wiped his face, and pushed his shower-damp hair back off his forehead. “Come in,” he called out.

Hesitating for a moment with his hand on the doorknob, Dean tried to come up with the best thing to say. It took him a second to realize there wasn't one. Pushing open the door, Dean stepped into the room, looking around as he closed it behind him. "Hey..." he breathed out, stepping forward toward Sam on the floor and rubbing at his neck uncertainly. "Sam..." Dean didn't want to sound like a broken record again, didn't want to apologize for the twelfth time, so he just snapped his mouth shut and rubbed at his jeans.

"You know," Sam's voice was shaky. "I walked so far that first night - I kept thinking that any second you would drive up behind me, pull over and say _Get in the fuckin' car, Sammy_ like you always did when we fought. But you didn't. Then I figured you'd call me, I kept my cell phone number for months, waiting, and you were the only person who could have called that number. Then I just got it disconnected."

He sniffed, combing his fingers through his hair, a nervous tic. "I... figured my birthday maybe, Christmas, anything. Do you know what it's like to wait all that time?" Sam looked down at his knees, the denim worn almost threadbare. "Soon it was easier to just say I was an only child, lost my Mom in a fire, my Dad to a hunting accident." He shrugged.

He wasn't really sure why he said it; it just seemed like the right thing to do. "I'll come with you, try and find where the kid belongs. This once. Then that's it - we go back to the way things were; you don't come here, you don't call... I go back to not having a brother." He climbed up off the floor, tired, defeated. "It's not for you, Dean," he looked down as he stopped about a foot away from his brother, "it's not even for the kid. It's about me and what I need to do. I get this out of the way - then we're through. I can stop wondering. You good with that?"

Every part of Dean hurt, more than he thought possible, more than it should because every time it hurt Dean thought this was it, there could be nothing more painful. "Yeah Sam. Whatever you want," he turned and headed for the door. "Thanks. I appreciate the help, I know I don't deserve it." His hand curled around the door frame and he exhaled softly. "You know Sam, I never changed my number. You could have called too. It's not like you went searching for me. I watched you, and so many times I wanted to approach you but..." Dean shrugged. "What would it matter? Nothing I could have said would have fixed it. Even if I told you how utterly wrecked I am over you." Dean stared at the floor. "I should probably go finish breakfast."

"I was seventeen years old, Dean." Sam's fingers ached to reach out for his brother's hip. "I was a kid. At that age would you have had the guts to call someone who rejected you like you did me?" Sam sighed, face still damp, "you think it makes it any better to know you were there? That you _could_ stay away." Sam tugged Dean's shoulder back so he could see his brother's face. "I couldn't have stayed away from you if I had seen you." Sam pushed past Dean to go back to the kitchen and paused. "you aren't wrecked over me... You _wrecked_ me. I was a sweet kid, Dean and I loved... I still knew how to love before..." He started to move down the hall, "you should make the kid waffles."

Dean blinked at him, slightly stunned, before things caught up with him and he stepped forward. "Fuck you Sam." He snapped, watching his brother freeze mid step. "You don't get to lay all this on me. Yeah you were seventeen and sure I'll even admit it's my fault but you don't get to tell me how I felt. How I _feel_. Maybe I've fucked up your life but you've fucked up mine just as much. You wanna hear how I spent the first few months without you holed up in some motel room, drunk or passed out, how I nearly _killed_ myself. Or maybe about the way I scouted gay bars until I found someone who looked enough like you that I could fuck them just to pretend."

Heading down the hall, Dean brushed against his brother's shoulder, stopping a few steps ahead of him. "Or maybe you'd like to hear about the time I finally decided I couldn't live without you and I came to tell you just to watch you and your perfect little blond together, knowing it was too late." The words felt all wrong coming out and Dean wished he could stop them but there seemed to be no end in sight. He turned toward Sam, inhaling sharply when he found his brother closer than expected. "You're the only person I ever loved. The only person I will _ever_ love. So I'm sorry I ruined you life, but... just... don't pretend like mine's not just as shit." He cut off lamely, eyes scanning across Sam's face, not sure whether he should brace himself for yelling, a punch across the jaw, or to be completely brushed off. In the end he settled for readying himself for all three, just in case.

“You done?” Sam’s eye were cold again as he retreated back behind his anger, “because if you _ever_ speak to me like that again I’m gonna punch you so fucking hard you’ll go through the wall, you hear me?” Sam’s long finger jabbed at Dean’s chest, “I don’t know you? _You_ don’t know a thing about me and my life Dean, not a thing. You don't know anything from hiding across the street and watching.

“There are a few great gay bars _here_ too if you need a fix while you’re in town. I can babysit for you,” he spat the last words. All those things that Dean had said and what lodged itself right in the middle of Sam’s chest was him saying he’d fucked guys because they looked like Sam. "You don't love me, you could never have treated me the way you did if you loved me."

Dean's jaw clenched as he met Sam's eyes. "I don't need this." He said softly and turned his back on Sam. "Do whatever you want Sam. I'm done trying." He headed down the hall as fast as possible, not giving Sam the chance for any more. There wasn't any way he could handle another word, it was a miracle he managed to keep the tears from streaming down his face until after he'd pulled the batter from the fridge once more and had something to distract himself. Then he cried silently, heart beating slow and steady though Dean wanted nothing more than for it to simply stop. He'd never thought of himself as such a suicidal person but really, after all this, Dean didn't even see the point in going on any more.

Shadrach looked up from her place on the floor, staring at Dean's back before turning her eyes to the door he'd just come in from. "Wanna hear a knock knock joke?"

"Not now Shaddy," Dean whispered, pulling open cabinets until he could find a frying pan.

She didn't say any more and Dean was grateful for it. The last thing he wanted was to pretend to be happy for the little girl's sake. He cooked the food silently, situating the food on a plate for Shadrach and himself. He didn't make Sam a plate - since the man didn't come down - but he did leave some extra made just in case. Shadrach ate her food silently as if she knew what had happened as was voicing no opinion on the subject.

After breakfast he cleaned up the stuff, though it didn't matter, and told Shadrach to use the bathroom for the last time before they left. He could tell the little girl wanted to ask him about Sam but she didn't, just headed down the hall to the bathroom. Dean went into the room they'd stayed in and packed up her things and his, carrying both duffel bags out the front door and to the car. He wanted to tell Sam not to bother, couldn't imagine spending however long it might take to find out where Shadrach belonged with the man. But the other part of him - the large part that he kept buried for the most part - was thrilled at the idea of having Sam at his side for those days.

When he stepped back inside Shadrach was waiting by the door, dangling her bear from her fingers and staring down the hall as if she knew Sam was coming already though he'd said nothing regarding it.

Sam walked slowly down the hallway, dreading the moment he was going to have to look Dean in the eye again. He had a backpack, his laptop and was trying to struggle into a hoodie at the same time. Smiling at Shadrach, maybe his way of apologizing he put his laptop bag on the floor, hoping she would notice the Bee pin was now on the front of his bag. He tugged his sweat shirt on - and tossed a note on the front hall table. It just read _I've gone away with my brother for a few days, will call - Sam._ Not that Jess would care as long as she weren't embarrassed or _put out_. His eyes were still a little swollen, his voice thick, "everyone ready?" Sam grabbed his house keys off the front table.

Dean's eyes drifted down to the paper, catching a glance at the word brother and surprised at the sudden skip of his heart. His eyes shot up to Sam only to find him resolutely looking away. "Yeah, let's go," Dean held out his hand to Shadrach, smiling down at her as they headed outside.

"This is going to be lots of fun huh?!" Shadrach jumped down the steps with Dean, turning back to Sam and grinning at him brightly. "Sammy can you talk Dean Bean into letting us go to a playground? I _really_ want to swing."

"I'm sure you can talk him into it Shad, and my name is Sam." He smiled and touched her cheek gently as he walked out the front door.

Shadrach spent the first hour of the drive chattering about any random topic that seemed to come to mind. Dean was already used to this though, and was actually thankful because it gave him an excuse to not have to talk to Sam. Or at least for the not talking thing to be understandable. He shut his brain off, didn't bother thinking about all the words that had passed earlier between them, knew they would only hurt more. And honestly, Dean was getting fed up with the constant hurt. One of these days he was just going to cave in on himself from all the pain.

His fingers curled around the steering wheel and he gazed out the windshield, jaw clenched. At some point Shadrach stopped talking, trailed off, leaned against the door and fell asleep. Dean's eyes darted up to the rear view mirror, scanning the sleeping girl before darting briefly to the side to glance at his brother. "Thought we head to the nearest FBI agency, check the nation's missing child records." He offered as an explanation, wanting to break the silence though having no idea how to.

"Sure," Sam didn't move his gaze from the passenger window. "I didn't bring a suit though - so you'll have to go alone. I can stay with the kid." Sam twisted on the front seat, throwing his are along the back and staring down at Shadrach where she had toppled over asleep. "Where'd you find her?" He reached back and tugged his discarded hoodie over her.

Dean ruffled his hair with a hand for a moment before dropping it to his thigh. "Idaho. Seriously the middle of nowhere. Drove around all the towns nearby and no one knew her. I've asked her several times but haven't been able to get a last name out of her. She won't let me near her backpack either, seems to have no idea where she comes from." Dean sighed and shook his head slowly. "Doesn't make sense. From what I've seen there's not a mark on her. And she's... she's weird you know? Sure she's cute and quirky but... weird." He glanced over at his brother to see if he would agree.

"Don't look at me," Sam shrugged, "my experience with kids is limited to telling my assistant to get them out of my office. Never wanted one - won't have one." Sam turned to face his window again, long legs stretched out as far as they could go. "So- pardon the lawyer in me but why not just take her to the cops, Dean?"

"Seemed wrong to," Dean shrugged. "I mean, I know I probably should have, hell any other kid I would have. I'm like you or uh, you know, never wanted one. Who'd want to bring a kid into this world?" He wet his lips, pausing to rethink his wording before going on. "Anyway, when no one knew her in the first few places I was going to take her to the cops but we stopped to get some cheeseburgers. I asked her about how she got to the side of the road and she said, and I quote, 'I guess I just found myself somewhere and I don't know how I got there.' And well... I got that. So..." Dean chuckled and shook his head. "Like I said... she's weird."

Sam felt his body stiffen, _I'm like you_ , and bit off his disagreement. They'd fought enough for one day, and Sam didn't really see the point in doing it anymore - neither of them was going to change. "Well, maybe we should reconsider." He leaned forward to crack his window and get some fresh air. "Maybe we should drop her off at the next station. I'm not so sure that you and I are the kind of people who should be spending much time with a kid."

Sam couldn't help the legal part of his mind going over the ramifications of crossing state lines with a child.

"Look Sam, I'm not forcing you to be here, you chose to come. You want to bail? Fine by me. But I'm not dumping the kid at some police station where she'll likely be stuffed in some foster home, spend the rest of her life being abused only to grow up and be a hooker at some seedy club in the middle of nowhere," Dean gestured with his hand as he spoke before curling his fingers around the wheel once more.

"Do you have to get mad at me every time I say something?" Sam finally turned and looked at Dean. Even with the extra lines on his face, Dean was still good looking; it was always his eyes that Sam loved. Green, like some kind of misty jade, and kind. Well, they used to be.

"Not mad, just stating the facts." Dean shrugged. It was obvious things between them for the rest of this trip were going to be tense. Like walking on egg shells. He wished he had the chance to explain things without pissing Sam off more but really, what would Dean say? The man was so shut off - not listening; it was pointless to even try. With a quiet sigh he reached out and pushed at the radio, letting the music fill the space between them so he didn't have too.

"Are we done talking?" Sam asked quietly.

 _I could listen to you talk forever_ Dean thought and instantly hated the fact that he could be so sentimental sometimes. In his thoughts anyway. "Figured you didn't want to talk," Dean shrugged and reached out to turn down the volume, leaving it up to Sam whether they actually tried to have a civil conversation. Not like they could fight in front of Shadrach, even if she was sleeping. Dean would just have to resist rising up to any bait.

"What if you can't find where she belongs? Have you thought about that?" Sam was reached down by his legs for his water bottle and opened it. "You can't drag someone else's kid around with you for the rest of your life." He took a drink of water and screwed the top back on his bottle.

Honestly, Dean hadn't looked that far into the future. Now that Sam's said it though something weird twists in his gut. "I'll find where she belongs." He says with determination. He adds in his head, _not gonna ruin someone else's life_. He sighs softly and glances at the sleeping girl in his rear-view mirror. "I have to." He can't explain what made him say it, only that he knows it's the truth.

"You suddenly develop a conscience about kids?" Sam didn't know how to _not_ be bitter. There was so much anger in him and eight years worth of not talking about it.

Shaking his head Dean let out an annoyed puff of air. "Yeah go figure," he bit back sarcastically. So much for not rising to bait.

Sam stared out the windshield watching the road signs blast by, "why didn't you come after me, Dean?"

Almost instantly Dean's mind provided the memory of that night, of the best kiss he'd ever had, the almost more than kissing, and the blow out that followed. It's all so intense he can almost _feel_ the way his face ached for hours after the punch. "Because I thought I was doing the right thing," he nearly whispered, tightening his fingers around the steering wheel. "Because I thought I was giving you a chance to have a better life that didn't include me. Because..." He couldn't say the other thing, couldn't admit to it now and just put himself out there for Sam to shove away. His eyes stay fixed on the road ahead of them, unsure whether he wanted to look over and see Sam's reaction.

"So... when you thought I had my perfect life..." Sam scoffed, "why not then? Why didn't you just call me or something?"

"I was terrified you would act... well... like you've acted," Dean was getting tired of this whole thing, had been since it started, but he figured at least he had his brother back for a little while. He'd just have to take what he could get. "It was easier just thinking it, not knowing for sure."

"How I'm acting..." Sam muttered, looking away from Dean. "I... if you had come to pick me up I would have gotten in the car. I mean, I'm just letting you know." Sam's fingers were picking at the worn patch on the knee of his jeans.

Dean nodded, "Yeah, I know you would have." He'd known it then too but so many things stood in the way. There were still all those things, only more of them, different ones. Dean could probably dwell on them all now but he tried not to think of Sam in those terms so it was best to just reach out and turn up the volume and go on driving. The conversation was by no means over but Dean figured they could both use a break, for the sake of their sanity.


	4. Chapter 4

Staring at his reflection in the mirror, Dean reached up and fiddled with the tie. He _sucked_ at the whole tying ties business, never had to do it. Wouldn't be doing it now either if he didn't have to pretend to be some agent of the FBI. He'd only ever pretended to be part of the agency a few times before and even then it was only around pedestrians and Dean wore a clip on. Sadly the clip on had suffered a... permanent accident involving some creature that spit flammable goo out its nostrils. Dean shuddered at the memory and tugged open the bathroom door, walking out with a huff. "Sam? Can you tie this fuc-" he cut off sharply as his eyes darted to the still napping figure of Shadrach on the bed. "Help?" He turned eyes back to his brother and tilted his head up.

Pushing up from the bed Sam smiled, and walked over. He stood there for a minute, uncomfortable, unsure of what to do with his hands then he reached up and grabbed the tie pulling out the knot Dean had started. "You kind of mangled that." Sam stepped a little closer, entirely too conscious of the heat coming off Dean's chest. Sliding the tie so that one end was longer he began the knot again, flipping the longer end over and pulling it up and through the loop around Dean's neck. He chewed on his bottom lip, having to try remarkably hard not to look at his brother's lips. Taking a deep breath, Sam passed the long end over the knot once more and tucked it down through the knot; he grabbed the knot and held on to the tie, tightening the knot so that it was flush with the top of Dean's collar. His hand pressed the tie flat against Dean's chest with the palm of his hand, "there, double Windsor." He looked up, the smile fading from his face as he realized what he was doing. "Sorry..." he mumbled, snatching his hand away and moving back.

Sucking in a quick breath, Dean leaned forward slightly as Sam stepped back, eyes fluttering. Heat coursed through him and Dean realized with a slight start that the touch made him feel more than he'd felt in the past eight years. It wasn't like the brief ones Sam had given him before they'd left, there was nothing harsh or brutal to it, and Dean was suddenly all too aware of how much he _ached_ to feel that touch again. Clearing his throat Dean brushed at invisible flecks of dirt on the suit coat and shifted his weight on his feet. "Thanks. I look alright? Passable?"

All too aware of the pink flush creeping up his neck, Sam nodded, "yeah, great," he sat back down on the unoccupied bed. "Uh... how long do kids sleep? Should I wake her up soon? Feed her?" Sam had just now realized that he was going to be left alone with Shadrach. He couldn't remember ever having been alone with a kid before.

Dean snorted and shook his head, snatching at his keys from the dresser. "She's not a dog Sam. She'll let you know what she needs. If you guys leave just leave me a note okay?" He dug through his bag for a moment, pulling out a gun and crossing to the bed Shadrach wasn't in, tucking the weapon under the pillow. His eyes traveled up to Sam afterward, "Don't think you'll need it but you can never be too safe." He paused for a moment by the side of the bed Shadrach was on, hesitated before reaching out and letting his fingers trail across the top of one braid. "Let her know I'll be back yeah?"

Sam's brow furrowed as he watched Dean, "Yeah, course." Sam looked away. Too many bad reminders. He flopped down on the other bed and picked up his book. "See ya later."

With a quick nod Dean headed for the door, glancing once behind his shoulder at Sam before disappearing out the threshold and closing the door firmly behind him. He walked to his car as quick as possible, wanting to get back as soon as he could, only a little scared that he might wake up at any moment and Sam would once more be gone.

Shadrach woke with a quiet mewing type noise, rolling on the bed and stretching her arms high above her head. After a moment she sat up, blinking as she looked around the room before turning to Sam. "Heya. Where's Dean Bean?" She pulled Winslow Bear into her lap before climbing off the bed and crossing to Sam's bed, crawling up onto the mattress beside him.

Sam let his book drop to the mattress, "he went to do some research, he'll be back soon, don't worry." Sam smiled.

"Neato. Whatcha reading?" She leaned forward before crawling closer to Sam, shifting so she could sit pressed against his knees.

"A Law Journal." Sam looked down at her, suddenly feeling _way_ out of his depth. "Do you need some food or something?"

Shadrach scrunched up her face in thought and nodded. "I could go for a cheeseburger. Do you have one?" She smiled at Sam brightly, reaching out to touch the book in his hand, pushing it down more so she could peer at the words. "Big words."

"Do I have... no..." Sam shook his head, "we could go and get a cheeseburger if you want." He smiled again, "and I work with big words all day."

Sliding off the bed Shadrach smoothed a hand across her braids and nodded, looking toward Sam. "You work with law stuff? Is it boring? Big words sound kind of boring. And can we get fries too? With ranch dressing to dip them in?"

"I do... and it _is_ boring. It's _very_ boring. I used to think I would hunt just like Dean..." he shook his head realizing who he was talking to. "Yeah - fries... let's go kid." Sam tossed his journal on the bedside table and grabbed his jacket off the chair. "Uh, put your jacket on - in case it's cold out."

Shadrach looked around for a moment, spotting her hot pink duffel bag across the room before crossing to it and yanking out a baby blue sweater. She slipped off her backpack, laying it on the duffel beside Winslow Bear before pulling on the sweater and gathering up her items. A minute later she was by Sam's side once more, slipping her hand in his. "So why do you do it? Your boring work?"

Sam held her tiny hand as gently as he could, "money. I make a lot of money. My uh... wife... likes my job." Sam cringed. "Okay, let's go find that burger." He opened the door and tugged her out on to the street. "There's a diner just down here. So... where you from kid? Where's home?" Sam realized quickly that he had to walk really slowly in order for her to keep up with his long stride.

Raising the hand that was clamped tightly around Winslow Bear, Shadrach gestured up to the sky. "Do you love your wife?" She asked once she dropped her arm, deciding after a few more steps to skip instead of walk.

"That's kind of a personal question don't you think?" Sam nearly choked on his tongue completely forgetting he was waiting for information.

"I don't know, I'm just a kid," Shadrach shrugged. "Seems kind of simple to me right? Don't you just love someone or not?" She bumped against Sam's side as she skipped.

"Yeah, you do." Sam looked down at the ground. He didn't know if he had ever loved Jess the way he should have. Maybe that's why things had turned out the way they had. If Sam had been the kind of man who could actually feel things then... maybe... Jess would have stayed that happy, vivacious blond that he met so long ago. "You know, Shad - you're right. That's exactly how it is." Hoping to change the subject Sam was relieved when he saw the diner. "Here - let's go in here." He opened the door for her and let her go through the door ahead of him.

Shadrach looked around the diner curiously, smiling as she led the way to a nearby booth and slid into the plastic seat. Her arms came to rest on the table top as Sam slid in the seat across from her. "Can you ask if they have a menu I can color?" She asked with a bright smile.

"A what?" This kid thing was making Sam's head hurt. "But whatever, yeah, I'll ask."

The smile on Shadrach's face dimmed slightly and she tilted her head to the side, blinking at Sam. "You don't like me very much do you Sam?" She said the words crisp and clear, sounding much older than the seven years of age she was.

"W..why would you say that?" Sam leaned forward, looking into her eyes. "Did I say something that made you feel bad? If I did I'm really sorry." Sam felt genuinely bad; he was running over things in his mind trying to figure out if he had done something wrong.

Shaking her head, Shadrach shifted Winslow Bear on her lap. "No... you just don't seem very happy." She shrugged and looked up and around for the waitress. "I thought you'd be happy to see your Dean again." She perked up when a waitress started heading toward them. "Oh and I want a chocolate milkshake okay? Can I please?"

"Uh, sure..." Sam ordered for them, ending up with quite a list of things for Shadrach by the time their food arrived along with a milkshake the size of Shadrach's arm, a coloring menu and everything else that the kid has requested the table was almost full. It wasn't all that different from sharing a table with Dean. Sam watched as Shadrach moved things around, getting everything set where she wanted it. "Why did you say, what you said before... about me being happy to see _my_ Dean again?"

Shadrach munched happily on a fry, pulling her milkshake forward to sip from it before once more picking up a crayon and running it across the menu. "Well you're his Sammy so I figured he's your Dean." She shrugged simply, snatching a fry with her crayon free hand and dipping it in the ranch dressing before sticking it in her mouth.

"Shad, we're not... I mean," Sam ran a hand through his hair. "We're not so much, really, friends anymore. I'm not his. And my name is Sam." He wasn't sure why he was still bothering to correct her. Like Dean said, she was a bit weird.

"But he says your name all the time when he sleeps," Shadrach looked up at him, dropping her crayon in favour of picking up the cheeseburger that barely fit between her tiny fingers. "He says your name and sometimes he cries and sometimes he smiles. And sometimes I dream about Winslow Bear and me in the park, since Winslow Bear is mine then obviously _you're_ Dean's."

Sam swallowed around the lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. _Obviously_. Sam looked down at the table, letting his hair fall down over his eyes. "Shad... it's complicated. Dean and I hurt each other really bad when we were kids... well, young... _fuc..._ I mean... damn." His eyes widened and he picked up his soda and drank it quickly.

Shadrach giggled at him and ate a fry. "I've heard bad words before Sammy, don't worry, I won't tell Dean Bean you said them," she grinned and munched on the food, watching Sam with wide eyes. "So if you and Dean hurt each other really bad... does that mean you'll never be friends again?" Her smile dropped softly. "Have you both said sorry? My mommy always makes me say sorry when I do things that hurt other people and then we hug and forgive each other and it's all better. You could try that."

"Some things you can't say sorry for Shad. It doesn't work sometimes, when the..." Sam blinked down at her, "hurt is too big."

She frowned and stared at her food, "But then... what happens?" When she looked back up Sam's face seemed confused so she went on. "If you can't say sorry and hug and be better, what happens? Do you just stay mad at each other forever? Are you and Dean never gonna be friends again? Even though you're brothers?"

Sam shoved his plate to the side and clasped his hands together, resting them on the table. "I wish I knew, Shad. I guess," he looked up at her, "sometimes, things just don't work out the way we want... wanted them to. Sometimes, even brothers can't always be brothers." Sam's chest felt tight. Having Dean back, even though they almost hated each other - was better than not having him at all. The fact that this was all going to come to an end soon was already tearing Sam apart.

Leaning forward, Shadrach pushed her own food out of the way. "It's like Cain and Abel right?" She said the words softly, lacing her fingers together.

"Well," Sam choked on his soda, "I hope Dean doesn't want to kill me. I mean, I know he hates me... wait... how do you know about Cain and Abel?"

"Noo I don't mean what _they_ want you to believe," Shadrach's voice dropped even softer and she looked around as if to make sure no one was listening even though they were alone on their side of the diner. "I meant what _really_ happened. How they loved each other but couldn't do the stuff that grownups do. You know, the kissy stuff." She gestured her hand, falling back on her seat. "Oh look! Dean Bean!" She pushed up in the seat, waving her hand in the air. "Hi!!"

Dean's eyes narrowed as he pushed open the diner doors, relief flooding through him. He'd returned to the hotel room only moments early to find a completely empty room and no note. Panic of course had flared through him - especially when he checked and found the gun still in place. He'd set off down the street and figured the diner was the only logical place they could have gone without a car unless someone had taken them. Coming up to the table now he slid Shadrach over and dropped into the seat, glaring at Sam. "Way to leave a note Sam. Cause I really needed the panic attack."

Dean's snarky tone shook Sam from his thoughts, "Dean, don't start... I'm not gonna hurt the kid." He rolled his eyes and sank down in the booth.

"I was actually worried something happened to _both_ of you," Dean mumbled and tugged at his tie, reaching out to snag a pinch of Shadrach's fries between his fingers, bringing them to his mouth. "You two getting along alright?" Dean glanced down at Shadrach, bumping her side with his arm.

She giggled and nodded, "Uh huh, we talked about loads of stuff." She beamed at Sam before dropping her eyes and going back to coloring.

"Good," Dean nodded and smiled down at her before looking up at Sam, smile still lingering on his lips.

Sam looked away, "did you find out anything?" He flicked the end of his fork with his finger.

Dean's smile fell and he looked down, reaching out for more fries. "No. Not a single listed Shadrach in their database. I had them run an international search but the results won’t be in until later." He sighed and chewed on the food. "Of course it would be a lot easier if we had a last name." Dean's eyes drifted to the girl's features. She simply hummed softly and continued coloring.

"Hey, kid," Sam reached out his hand to rest on the edge of the placement Shadrach was working on, "what are we supposed to do with you? How do we get you home?"

Looking up from her coloring, Shadrach stared thoughtfully at him. "You have to fix it."

Dean blinked. It was more than he'd gotten out of her before we asked her pretty much the same questions. "Fix what?" He asked, glancing at Sam before looking back at the girl.

"Fix _it_." She gestured into thin air with her crayon. "It's not the way it should be and things won't be right until it is. Can't go home until it's better." She dropped her gaze again and resumed her coloring.

Sam blinked, scratched his head then shrugged and drank some more soda. He put his glass down quickly as his mind started to mull over everything. "So Shad, what has to be fixed?" He held up a hand when Dean opened his mouth to speak.

"Everything," Shadrach coloured purple in the lines before switching out for the blue crayon. "It's kinda like... we went down one road but it wasn't the right one so now we gotta get back to the other one you know?"

Dean furrowed his eyebrows, keeping his mouth shut still as he darted looks between Shadrach and Sam. She was probably the weirdest person he'd ever met and he was seriously beginning to think it had less to do with her being a kid and more to do with her just being... strange.

Sam tilted his head to the side, "how do we know which road to go back on Shad? How do we know _how_ to make things right?" Sam picked up one of the spare crayons and started colouring on his own plain-white placement.

"Hmm..." Shadrach hummed thoughtfully for awhile and Dean continued to pass eyes between them. "Well I suppose I'll go home. When it's right. It's why I'm here." She shrugged and looked up at Dean, sliding her paper over. "You wanna color too?"

Dean blinked at her. "Wait... you're... you're here because I found you on the side of the road Shadrach. That's why you're here."

"Uh huh," Shadrach nodded and grinned at him. "You did. And I am."

Looking over at his brother, Dean leaned forward slightly, "Are you getting something I'm not?"

"We gotta fix it, that's all, Dean." Sam shrugged and kept colouring.

Dean looked at each in turn and shook his head. "What exactly are we fixing?"

Sam looked up at his brother briefly, "what needs fixing I guess." He shrugged, tearing his eyes away from Dean's, realizing the weight of that tiny statement. It certainly had nothing to do with them because there was no fixing that.

Sighing and giving up, Dean pushed to the edge of the table. "Alright." The only thing he could think of in his life that needed fixing was impossible to fix so clearly there was something going on in Shadrach's mind. "So Shaddy, where do we start, with the fixing it thing?"

Shadrach looked up with a bright grin, dropping her crayon and scooting with Dean to the edge of the seat, waiting for him to move. "I _really_ want to swing! Can we go to the park?"

Glancing up at Sam, Dean nodded as he stood, stepping to the side for Shadrach to slide out. She hollered something about needing to pee and ran off toward the back of the building. Dean waited until she disappeared behind the door before turning back to his brother. "You wanna come with us or just...?" He shrugged and dug his hands into his pockets.

"I'll go with her... you both... I mean..." Sam slid out of the booth and stood up, stretching. It was so much hard to talk to Dean when Shadrach wasn't with them. She was like a buffer, a way for them to stop crashing into each other. "Is it okay... if I go with her too?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded. He wanted to tell Sam that he was planning on taking full advantage of their brief time together but he didn't, knew that Sam wouldn't like to hear the words and they would probably only hurt him more. He turned back to the door, watching quietly until Shadrach stepped out and headed toward them. Knowing she was around made him breathe a little easier. It meant Sam or he wouldn't say something they'd both regret moments later. Or at least Dean would regret, as it was pointed out to him he didn't know his brother very well anymore. "Ready?" He asked, holding out his hand to Shadrach as she stepped up to them.

"Yay swings! I want you both to push me okay?" She bounced slightly as she took Dean's hand, beaming up at Sam for a moment before following Dean out of the diner.

Sam smiled at the kid and trailed along behind them.

The park was a source of great amusement to Shadrach. She laughed at the fact that Sam was too big to fit on anything and got stuck halfway down the lighthouse slide when she finally convinced him to go on it. Despite the fact that Dean _fit_ on most of the rides, Shadrach managed to get his tie stuck through one of the rope bridges; he nearly strangled himself before he managed to tug it free. Neither Winchester could remember the last time they were in a park, let alone climbing on the monkey bars - which they did, how do you say _no_ to a seven year old. Sam and Dean kept their distance from one another throughout the day. They would look at each other, never at the same time, stealing glances; memories they could file away. They were like opposing polls of a magnet, pushing each other away whenever they drifted too close. If Shadrach noticed, it wasn't apparent; she simply called to each man when he drifted too far away, bringing him back - closing the gap once again.

After the park Dean insisted on ice cream. There was a small ice cream shop near the park so they walked. Shadrach had taken to grabbing Sam and Dean's hands whenever they walked, primarily because it took little convincing to get the men to swing her up into the air every few steps. Winslow bear, poor thing, was often passed off to Sam. Sam had _softer hands_. Sam hadn't said much directly to Dean that but he spared a few words to warn Dean not to say a _thing_ about his hands. It made Dean smile; a smile that Shadrach said was the first _real_ one she's seen.

Sam's phone range twice while they were out. The first time he was on the top of the monkey bars, swinging his long legs below him and staring off in the distance like he was watching for someone to arrive. The second time his phone rang they were lined up on a low brick wall eating their ice cream cones. Both times Sam put the phone back in his pocket without answering.

There were a few uncomfortable moments, more than there should have been between brothers; more than there would have been between strangers. Each accidental touch between Sam and Dean seemed to rattle them, send them scattering as though they'd been scorched. It didn't get any easier as the day went on and by late afternoon both men looked tense, faces drawn and their muscles taut. The Library was a pleasant refuge from the Winchester's attempts to talk to each other. Shadrach scurried off to immerse herself in the children's books, Dean slipped upstairs to find the repair manual for the Impala because he wanted to check something and Sam logged into one of the public computers to check his work email and send out some creative excuses for his sudden disappearance. The hours slipped by at the Library and soon Shadrach was tugging at Dean's hand and stating quite adamantly that she needed pizza. And so, they made their way back to the motel, Sam bought some beer on the way and Dean ordered a pizza just as they got there.

Once Dean snapped his phone shut and dropped on the bed, Shadrach clambered up into his lap and looped her arms around his neck, grinning up at him. There was something almost... knowing... about her smile and Dean considered her with his own faint smile. "When's your birthday Shaddy?" He asked casually, glancing just briefly past the little girl to watch Sam travel across the room, dropping onto the far side of the other bed. That tinge of longing for his brother's contact that had been building all day grew a little, working its way up through him and tugging at his heart.

"Hmm I don't know," Shadrach shrugged and picked at Dean's tie. "Why? When's yours?"

"I just thought then we'd know how old you are," Dean frowned. What type of kid didn't know when their birthday was? Even when he was younger and they hardly did anything for birthdays, he still looked forward to his. Dean sort of thought every kid looked forward to getting older, not being stuck too small to do other things. "You're really different Shaddy, I don't think you're like most kids."

"Nope, I'm not. But that's cause I come from somewhere different," Shadrach giggled and turned to look at Sam over her shoulder. "You know how it feels like... like sometimes you're a different color then all the other colors and people just don't see it? Like Indigo on a rainbow. Most people don't ever notice it's there, ‘cause it's kinda like purple but it's not purple, you know?"

Dean stared at the little girl before letting his eyes travel up to Sam. She was some kind of strange on a whole other level. Pushing her gently off his lap with a shake of his head, Dean rose from the bed, "I'm getting out of this suit."

Shadrach crawled onto the bed beside Sam. "Do you get what I mean Sammy?"

Sam's eyes drifted to Dean as he moved. He looked good in the suit. A smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth as he turned to look at Shadrach. "I _do_ get it, kid." Sam slung a long arm over her shoulder and tugged her close to his side, it was comforting; the warmth of another human. "I felt different a lot, when I was growing up - well, when I was older than you... I... never mind." He squeezed her in a quick hug.

Settling back into Sam's body, Shadrach nodded and reached out to lay her hand over Sam's arm. "I know Sammy," she sighed softly and patted the skin beneath her hand.

Dean pulled up a pair of jeans and a shirt from the duffel bag, turning slightly to look at the two on the bed. He was surprised at the sudden pang of jealousy that ran through him. He wished he was the one curled up at Sam's side, nuzzled into him. Shaking his head Dean crossed the room and stepped into the bathroom, closing the door quickly behind him.

Shadrach's eyes drifted toward the bathroom door then back to Sam. "It's rough huh? This thing between you?" She pressed her lips together tightly, blinking at Sam.

Sam nodded, not trusting his voice and impulsively leaned down and kissed the top of Shadrach's head. It was harder than Sam had thought it would be; hell, he still wasn't sure _why_ he was here - it had just seemed like something he should do. Looking back, it hadn't been the brightest decision he'd ever made.

"I'm glad you came," Shadrach relaxed into him and lifted up the bear in her grip, making it dance across her lap and up Sam's arm. "I think it's gonna be good."

Dean's fingers curled along the sink as he stared at himself in the mirror. He could still hear the softly tinkle of Shadrach's voice, the lower hum of Sam's, and no matter how many times he blinked at his reflection things didn't change. All day his emotions had been all over the place and now he just felt worn out. He wanted to go out there, flop on the bed with the two of them and wrap himself around Sam. He wanted to pretend like they were some twisted, big happy family. And if he was really honest with himself, he wanted to pull Sam close and press their lips together because he was fairly certain it would make him _feel_ and until the last twenty four hours he hadn't realized how much he hadn't been feeling.

Tugging open the bathroom door, Dean dropped his suit on top of his duffel bag and headed toward the door, stopping to peer out the peep hole. His hand rested along the hard wood surface and a shaky sigh fell from his lips as he rested his forehead on the surface as well. For a moment Dean wondered if he had the strength to keep this up, followed instantly by the wonder if he'd be able to survive once Sam was gone again. For good. A sob caught in his throat and he bit it back.

"You should talk to him," Shadrach said softly to Sam, eyes fixed on Dean's back.

Sam looked down, the sadness in his heart reflected on his face. "I..." he shook his head, "I don't think I know how to, kid." It all came back to the fact that there were some things that couldn't be taken back, some things that couldn't be fixed. And Dean, Sam shook his head slowly, it was always Dean who didn't want... what Sam had wanted. "Everything's too different now," Sam murmured. He looked up at the line of Dean's back, knowing, somehow, his brother's was upset - and knowing there was nothing he had to offer.

"Is it though?" Shadrach leaned forward slightly, arms coming to rest on her thighs, fingers picking at the hem of her dress. "Is it really that different or is it just something in you that you have to step over to get past?" She tilted her head to look at Sam curiously.

Looking down at the little girl's face, Sam's brow furrowed. The strangest things came out of her mouth. Sam pushed up from the bed and walked over towards Dean, glancing back once at Shadrach. "Dean? You okay?" He jammed his hands in his pocket afraid if he kept them free... well.

Dean's shoulders stiffened and he lifted his head from the door. "Probably about as good as you," he said softly, stepping back from the door and turning to lean back against the wall, scratching at his arm for a moment before glancing up at Sam.

Sighing, Sam glanced back at Shadrach who was busying herself with Winslow bear. He chewed on his bottom lip, eyes flitting up to Dean's face. "O..okay... just checking." His hands were clenched into fists so tightly in his pockets that his forearms were aching. "Okay," he repeated, clearing his throat.

"Are you?" Dean asked, though it seemed a little redundant considered the answer he'd just given.

Sam tugged one hand free and ran it through his hair. "Yeah," he shrugged, "I'm alright." He glanced up and somehow got caught by his brother's eyes. He blinked, "no, I'm not okay - I haven't been okay for a long time." He swallowed, surprised by his own words. "But... it's not your fault." And it wasn't really; Sam had been an adult for a long time. He turned away before he reached out to Dean. Dean was always the _safe_ place.

"Sam," Dean said softly, pushing off the wall and taking a step toward his brother. His hand came out, hesitating in the few inches of air away from him. Dean stared at his fingers for a moment before curling his fingers together into a fist. "I'm sorry." He breathed the words, hoping Sam would understand he wasn't apologizing just to be trite, that he really was sorry. Sorry that Sam hated his life so much, sorry the Sam's wife was cheating on him, that he hated his job. It wasn't even for the way things had happened between them, more for what had become of things since then. Of course it was a lot to expect of Sam, to get all that from two little words, and Dean dropped his arm, eyes darting around Sam to the little girl on the bed. She was still playing with her bear but her body was tense, as if she was paying close attention to their interaction.

Sam glanced back over his shoulder quickly, "Dude, don't worry." He slid back behind the facade he'd worked so hard on over the years, "I just gave you your _get out of jail free card_. Not your fault." He moved to the unoccupied bed and sat down with a sigh. "You're good to go, man... no more guilt." He bit down hard on his bottom lip and stared hard at the worn carpet on the floor at his feet. He was suddenly exhausted.

"As if it were that easy," Dean shook his head. "You of all people should know you can't just shrug off things like that." Dean folded his arms across his chest.

There was a knock at the door, abruptly halting conversation and Dean turned to get the pizza there.

Shadrach climbed off the bed excitedly, heading for the table and stopping just a moment to press a kiss to Sam's cheek. "See? That was progress. One step forward." She grinned at him.

Sam fell sideways onto the pillow and sighed. "Easy for you to say, kid," he mumbled into the pillow.

With a soft giggle Shadrach headed toward Dean and the table, asking excitedly about the biggest piece of pizza.

Dean somehow managed to eat without fixing his eyes on Sam the entire time. Though every glance was lingering and in the end Dean could only get through one piece of pizza. It was rare for him, eating so little, but really he shouldn't have been surprised. Everything was more intense, skewed and off kilter and Dean couldn't shake the feeling that he'd woken in some parallel universe, or maybe just that everything was finally coming back to haunt him. He had no control over what would come next, only that the ending was a looming black hole in which Dean would lose his brother for the rest of his life and it seemed to be the only fact that registered.

Once they'd eaten Dean managed to find the Wizard of Oz on TV and Shadrach was almost instantly enthralled. He'd expected as much, seeing as her love for colors and tendency toward being weird. She settled herself along Sam's side on the bed and Dean dragged a chair over to the window, flopping down in it and pulling out a selection of his knives to sharpen. It was familiar work, relaxing and Dean lost himself in the motions, drowning out all thoughts with the gentle clink of steel.

Sam's eyes were heavy; the room was warm and the gentle sounds of Dean working made it feel as though Sam had been slammed back through time. He could have been on any of the hundreds of hunts when he was a kid, the harsh light of the TV with its tinny sound, the grating of blades sharpening, the soft sounds from his brother; a small cough, a sigh. Sam relaxed into the bed, leaning into the warmth of Shadrach as she stared at the TV. He fell asleep to flying monkeys and gentle, little-girl laughter.

When the movie was over and an infomercial started playing Dean finally rose from his chair, crossing the room to turn off the TV. Sam and Shadrach were both asleep, curled together, and Dean's hurt lurched. The expression on Sam's face was surprisingly peaceful and despite the faintest swirl of loneliness, Dean was glad that someone was able to comfort his brother. As he stepped out of his jeans and tossed them toward his duffel, Dean thought on how he used to be able to provide comfort for the man, how he used to be the one to hold him at night when everything got too sad or scary.

Dean shifted on the mattress as he slipped beneath the covers, eyes traveling along the ceiling. Another motel room, another set of lines to study in the darkness. He was in an odd sort of world that held all the familiar things mixed with everything that was different. Not for the first time - and certainly not for the last - tears began a steady stream from his eyes and Dean rolled to the side to stare at the sleeping form of his brother through water eyes until he fell asleep.

He dreamed about Sam, as he did often. Dreamed of the first time they kissed, of the days that followed it. And as the dream so often did, things shifted until those last horrible moments, when Sam said, _ask me to stay_ and Dean's mouth opened to say all the wrong things. His body rolled on the bed and he curled in on himself, groaning Sam's name in pain. In his dream he came back for Sam but not to beg and plead him to stay, instead to _force_ him too. As dream Dean rained blows down on his brother, the real Dean thrashed beneath his blanket, trying desperately to flee from the horrible sight, name gasping out Sam's name in surprised pain.

"Dean?" The name was on Sam's lips before he was even fully awake. He wrestled with sleep for a few moments, untangled himself from Shadrach and leaned over to peer at his brother's form on the other bed.

Dean was thrashing about on the bed, _a nightmare_ , Sam recognized it easily. But the noises Dean was making were so mournful, so scared. Sam slipped off his bed and sat down on the floor beside his brother's head. Trembling slightly, Sam reached out and ran the backs of his fingers over Dean's cheek. "S'okay, bro," he whispered. "It’s all okay." It didn't feel like a lie; it felt more like a wish. Sam always tried to make wishes right. He might never be able to help but he'd always hoped Dean would be okay. Dean's thrashing ceased, his moans quieting a little. Sam's long fingers ran down over his brother's cheek, down his jaw and he pulled his hand back. His chest ached to just lean down and slip his arms around the man in front of him, but - he was so different now, they both were. So much time, and so much hurt.

Letting out a breath, Sam leaned his side against the mattress and rested his head on his arm. "I'll be gone soon, Dean, and you'll be okay again. A tear slipped unnoticed down Sam's cheek. "I miss you," he whispered - his eyes drifting closed again. He reached up sleepily and slipped his fingers into Dean's hand.

When consciousness crept in on him, slowly working its way through his system, Dean became almost instantly aware of the warm flesh pressed against his hand. At first he thought it was Shadrach only the hand was bigger than his, fingers laced together. Turning slightly, Dean opened his eyes and stared at his brother, asleep on the side of the mattress. It looked pretty uncomfortable and Dean blinked at him, trying to figure out how he'd come to be in that place. Dreams flickered through his mind... and all he could assume was he'd been talking in his sleep again.

Dean's eyes fixed on the place his flesh was connected with Sam's. Tears pricked along his eyes at the warmth crawling up his arm. He didn't want to move, didn't want to breathe in case it woke Sam and caused this all to end. It wasn't enough but at the same time it was more than Dean had ever thought he'd get again. He drank in the touch and shifted forward slightly, wiggling his body just barely on the mattress until he could shift forward. Dean leaned forward and brushed his lips just like a whisper along the top of Sam's hand, heart clenching tightly in his chest. "I miss you Sam," he blew the words out with a breath, not knowing he was echoing his brother's statement from the night before.

Once more he pressed his lips to the top of Sam's hand, eyes falling closed. He inhaled quickly through his nose, trying to savour Sam's skin beneath his lips. When he lifted his head he fully intended to pull back, only as he opened his eyes he found himself staring into Sam's watery hazel ones and all the air fell from his lungs. His shoulders tensed slightly and he hovered inches from Sam's face, blinking rapidly.

For an instant, when Sam's eyes opened, it was like he was far away. Dean's face right there, his lips touching the back of Sam's hand; fiery and soft. It brought gentle tears to Sam's eyes, the innocence of it, the gentleness. _His Dean_. But, the feeling of _rightness_ was immediately followed by Sam's need to get away. He yanked his hand from Dean's, his heart thundering about in his chest. There were things Sam wanted to say, but he wasn't going there again. _Not_ again.

Scrambling backwards, his socks sliding over the carpet, he pushed until he bumped into the other bed. He watched the play of emotions on Dean's face, his own stomach clenching and churning. "You... nightmare...didn't want you to wake Shad. I'm sorry, I... I shouldn't have." He closed his eyes.

"You don't have to apologize," Dean said softly, pushing up so he was sitting up, heart beating unevenly in his chest. "Does it look I was complaining?" He nearly whispered the words, the heat in his hand still lingering in him. Dean curled his fingers together, savouring the lingering heat and resolutely ignoring the way his stomach churned unpleasantly.

The look on Dean's face was too much and Sam looked away. As calmly as he could he pushed up off the floor. He really wanted to go somewhere, run, but then - running hadn't proved to be the best strategy in the past. "Well," he cleared his throat, "I shouldn't have. We've been down that road." Sam walked around the bed and lay down behind Shadrach's tiny body - a wall between the two men.

Dean rubbed his palm against the bed sheet and dropped his gaze. It wasn't like he expected Sam to suddenly _want_ him the way that Dean had always - would always - want Sam, but the rejection stung none the less. "Gonna shower," he mumbled as he climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. After so many years Dean had already learned that it was impossible to drown yourself in the shower but that didn't stop him from trying.

The water wasn't warm enough for his tastes so Dean didn't take an overly long shower. His cock was half hard with morning interest - and it had _nothing_ to do with Sam - but he ignored it. Somehow knowing Sam was in the other room with a little girl made it just too weird to jack off. Instead he tried to go over things to do during the day, though he had no idea what could possibly be done in the whole Shadrach situation. Dean felt too much like he was missing more than half the pieces.

With a faint sigh he flipped off the faucet and curled his hand around the plastic shower curtain, tugging it open as he turned. Possibly the last thing he expected to see was Sam there, head turned to him, eyes wide, hand holding a cup under the faucet. Dean sucked in a sharp breath, staring at Sam with what he was certain were equally wide eyes.

Sam froze. He wished that he could say his eyes were locked with his brother's, that he looked away, he was focused on the glass in his hand. None of that was true. Sam's eyes moved over Dean's body; Dean's body had changed, he was so much harder, more muscular. Curves and lines where there used to be the smooth flatness of a young man. The way his abs dipped in front of his thigh, the curve of his hip and _still_ the dusting of freckles across his chest. Sam swallowed hard, his lips parting, eyes darkening. It wasn't until the water started to overflow in the glass and run over his hand, cold and shocking that Sam tore his eyes away from Dean. He turned the tap off and turned back to his brother holding the glass, water dripping slowly onto the floor.

Sucking in another sharp breath, Dean flushed under Sam's gaze. Heat shot through him, and Dean tried to work up the ability to move his arm and pull the curtain back before Sam could realize he was fully erect. His mind flashed to hot kisses and the slide of his brother's fingers too brief over his skin. Dean needed to put space between them if there was any hope of regaining the ability to breathe and not launch himself out of the shower at his brother. Finally kick-starting his arm into gear, Dean reached up and curled his fingers around the plastic, tugging it sideways.

Sam's free hand snapped out and grabbed Dean's hand - stopping him from moving the shower curtain. His gaze moved to Dean's eyes, "Shad... she wanted a glass of water." He gestured with the glass, spilling more water on his arm. His fingers were still curled around the curtain. His body swayed closer, chin tilting up the slightest bit. He swallowed, feeling the muscles of his throat tighten then release; closing his eyes Sam leaned his cheek against Dean's, breathing deeply. Turning slightly, his lips brushed Dean's cheek and he let the curtain fall, and was gone - the door snicking shut behind him.

Dean blinked a few times before pulling the shower curtain shut, flipping on the shower once more and curling his fingers around the base of his cock. "Fuck," he gasped, more turned on than he'd been in years. His cheek still tingled from the press of Sam's lips and he decided to simply focus on relieving the tension. He'd think about what this meant later.

They left the city that day in favour of driving to the coast. Since the only thing Shadrach would mention is asked about herself was something regarding either the sky or 'fixing it' Dean figured she'd enjoy seeing the ocean. They stopped by a retail store so they could pop inside and pick up swim outfits. Dean couldn't remember the last time he went to the beach though he knew it was most likely with Sam when they were younger, a lifetime ago. Shadrach picked out a hot pink swimsuit - her color of choice it seemed - and giggled at Sam when the man continued to pick up the little boys swim trunks and held them against one leg claiming they wouldn't fit.

Dean couldn't help smiling as he watched them. Sam seemed to be a little looser today, like maybe the twenty four hours without a drink calmed instead though statistics would say it should be the exact opposite. He should be going through withdrawal in an extreme way but if anything he seemed more... alive. It was good, nice to see the smile on the man's features.

When they got to the beach Shadrach took off for the water, fleeing from it the moment the water came crashing toward her. Dean hung back as Sam ran after her, scooping her up in his arms and spinning her around. It felt so weirdly domestic, laying out towels, pulling out the sand toys they'd just purchased and peeling off price tags. Dean hollered for them after a moment, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen. Never in his wildest dreams had he seen himself with Sam at the beach and a little girl, and he wondered what they would look like to those people passing by.

"Can I play more in the water after?" Shadrach asked as she stood before him, holding out her arms for Dean to smear sunscreen on.

"Half hour, it has to soak in," Dean instructed and lathered her up, getting her shoulders and back too just in case. He'd suffered painful sunburns before and the last thing he wanted was a seven year little girl with blisters. "You can play in the sand if you want. We could build a sand castle." He gestured toward the toys and she scooped up a few, taking off the moment his hands left her leg.

Clearing his throat, Dean turned to offer the bottle to Sam, stopping with his hand raised, words dying on his tongue. Sam was pulling off his shirt, strong muscles along his back flexing and pulling, rippling across tight skin. The last time Dean had seen Sam without a shirt he had been pale, skin and bones, no defined muscles, no tan skin. Electricity shot through him as Sam turned toward him. Dean's eyes fixated on the curve of Sam's abs and he wondered if this was how his brother felt earlier... only Dean had the distinct advantage of not seeing the man naked. Which was probably a good thing because he was fairly certain he might have exploded right there on the spot. "Uh..." he cleared his throat and tore his eyes up from Sam's abs. "Sunscreen?"

Sam reached for the bottle, fingers brushing over Dean's. He squeezed some of the lotion out and rubbed it across his chest; his eyes following Shadrach as she moved closer to the water. "It's hard... being responsible for someone..." he nodded his chin towards the little girl, "so much to think about all the time." Sam squirted more lotion into his palm, rubbed his hands together and spread it on his arms. He found himself wondering what it must have been like for Dean when they were kids... always watching over his little brother. "Hey - it's cliché I know," he tossed the lotion back to Dean, "put some on my back for me?" He turned and stretched out his arms. "Always sunburned easily."

Dean didn't have to be asked twice. The idea of touching his brother - even over such a simplistic task - was far too appealing to pass up. Pushing up, he stood behind Sam and squirted some lotion in his palm, dropping the bottle to the side before rubbing his palms together and laying them across Sam's back. "I could never do this full time. Looking after Shadrach," Dean said softly, forcing conversation to keep him grounded to the moment. The last thing he wanted was to let his touches linger too long. But Sam's skin was firm and burning under his palms and Dean couldn't help rubbing in small circles, covering every inch. As his hands dipped lower his thumb caught just a centimetre under the man's lower hanging swim trunks, tracing along the skin with the smear of sunscreen on tanned skin. "It's not in me. Being a dad."

Sam shrugged, letting his arms fall to his sides. It was pretty hard to concentrate with Dean's hand moving over his body. "I brought some beer down..." He cleared his throat and stepped forward, "you want one? I _need_ one." He leaned over and rooted in his bag and pulled out two bottles.

"Thanks," Dean nodded, clearing his throat and wiping his palm along his arm before snatching at the offered bottle. His eyes fixated on Shadrach playing in the sand as he pulled off the cap, bringing the bottle up for a lengthy drink. Eyes still fixed on Shadrach, he spoke, "Sam, I wanna say something and I want you to just listen to it, can you do that?" He glanced at Sam for a moment before turning back to watch the little girl.

Sam took a big pull on his beer bottle and sighed. "Okay... sit?" He didn't wait for Dean to answer, but sat down on the beach digging his bare feet into the warm sand. "Shoot."

As he sat Dean sorted through his thoughts, bringing up his knees and draping his arms across them, beer bottle dangling between his fingers. "That night, when everything happened..." Dean wet his lips and glanced at Sam. "When you asked me to ask you to stay, I couldn't. Obviously. That didn't mean I didn't want too. And truthfully, the only reason I never came back before you left was because I knew if I saw you again I wouldn't be strong enough to let you go." He pulled from the beer bottle, draining nearly half the contents before bringing the bottle back down. "I guess I just thought you should know that, I know it doesn't mean much now."

Sam watched his beer bottle shake a little as he brought it up to his lips. "Dean, I didn't need you to say that you wanted me to stay. I guess... I was telling you I needed to hear you say you..." he looked down, "just that you _wanted_ me." He shook his head slightly. "Water under the bridge I guess." He stared out at the waves, his gaze remote, lost.

"I thought it was obvious I wanted you," Dean returned, watching Shadrach move on the sand. He felt bad, like maybe he should go play with her and stop trying to talk to Sam since the man clearly didn't want to go down the path. But if Sam was just going to be gone when this was all over, well Dean figured it didn't hurt to clear the air a little before that happened. Then at least Dean wouldn't have to spend the rest of his life feeling like he'd never told his brother how he really felt. "Sam... I wanted you too much. More than I should have. More than I have _ever_ wanted anyone else."

Sam rubbed the back of his neck, eyes squinting in the sun. He downed the rest of his beer and reached into the bag again and grabbed another one; he popped the top off and passed it back and forth slowly from one hand to the other. "You didn't tell me you wanted me. You told me you wanted me leave. So, I left." Drinking a little bit more of his beer Sam watched his feet move under the sand, "it's okay, Dean- I get it. Younger brother, the responsibility. It was wrong, it's _still_ wrong. You wanted what was best for me. I get it." Sure, on an intellectual level Sam got it all. It was just that, even as he spoke the words, there was still a gaping hole inside his chest - where Dean had been ripped from him all those years ago. "Dean. I think you and I should just get drunk tonight - celebrate - you know - being brothers again, get a movie for the kid. Like the good old days - you know?" Sam took another swig of his beer.

Allowing himself just a moment to think over all the reasons it was a bad idea, Dean nodded a moment later. "Yeah, sounds like a good idea." He glanced over at Sam, setting down the beer bottle. "Should check out the motel; see if they've got one with a separate sleeping room. Probably a bit more expensive but then we don't have to worry about waking the kid." Dean chuckled and blanched a moment later, realizing that might have come out wrong. "I mean, being drunk. You know, if we get noisy. Uh... from being drunk." A bright flush crawled up Dean's face and he buried his head in his hands. "Ugh just forget I said anything."

Sam rolled his eyes, "Dean - nothing's going to happen, that's not why I suggested drinking. I drink, Dean, it's what I do. You know the joke? I drink to make _other_ people more interesting? Well, I drink to make everything seem... better." Even Sam didn't believe what he was saying but it was easier than having to face the fact that his heart had sped up a notch or two when Dean had suggested the idea of them being alone in a room together. Anything was easier than facing that.

"Right." Dean nodded, short and crisp, before pushing up. "Gonna go play with the kid." He mumbled and headed toward the patch of sand where Shadrach was attempting construction of a sand castle. A soft little sigh fell from his lips as he dropped to his knees beside her and reached for one of the buckets. "Have you ever made a sand castle before?"

"Nope, but I like to make castles out of clouds. They aren't so dirty," Shadrach scrunched up her nose and stared at her dirty palms before continuing scooping damp sand into her bucket. Dean stared at her, wondering what went on in that tiny little mind. It had to be like, repressed memories or some sort of psychological issue that messed with her mind and Dean flinched thinking of all the things that could have caused it. Asking would have been pointless though and in the next beat Shadrach spoke again, "Sammy made your nightmares go away?"

Dean's eyes widened even more. "What? How did..." he shook his head, questioning her wasn't likely to get him anywhere fast. "Yeah. He did."

"Are you better? Sammy said you two weren't okay..." she patted at the sand in her bucket firmly.

"No, not really. But I guess we're a little better than we were, so that's something..." He sighed and looked back up at Sam, watching him take a long drink from his beer. "I don't think he wants us to be better."

"Sure he does," Shadrach smiled at Dean before curling her hands around the bucket and turning it upside down. "Maybe he just doesn't know how to get there."

Dean watched as she pulled up the bucket and half the castle slid off. "What do you mean?"

Shadrach frowned at the sand before sliding off the other half to make it even. "Well... just maybe he's the one who's lost. You know, you have to find where he belongs. Not me." She considered her mini tower before looking up at Dean with serious eyes. He'd never seen that type of expression on a kid. Hell, he'd hardly ever seen it on an adult. "It's like people who eat salad when they want a cheeseburger."

And, alright, Dean knew she was weird but this was just reaching some extreme levels. "How so?" He found himself asking, if only because it felt like this moment was really important though he had no idea why.

A long sigh left Shadrach's lips as she began filling her bucket again. "Everyone says salad is what you're supposed to eat but you _want_ a cheeseburger. And what's wrong with having what you want?"

This... made a surprising amount of sense to Dean. He knew Shadrach had some idea that things were off between Dean and his brother but this line of discussion had him wondering just how much she knew. For the first time since he'd picked up the little girl off the side of the road he considered that maybe she wasn't exactly what she appeared to be. "But what if the cheeseburger is bad for you. Too many cheeseburgers and you'll get fat." He pointed out, turning his own bucket of sand upside down.

Shadrach was quiet until her bucket was completely full. Once she turned it upside down beside the half tower, she looked over at Dean and leaned forward. "Not if you exercise too." She grinned at him. "I think someone just needs to tell Sammy to have a cheeseburger. Besides, salad's can be just as bad if you use the stuff with all the fatty things. Like ranch dressing." Shadrach rubbed her stomach and stood, lifting the bucket to reveal a perfect tower in the shape of the round bucket. "I'm gonna ask Sammy to go swimming with me!" She took off across the beach toward his brother.

Dean watched her go until she tackled into Sam's side. His brother laughed and caught her, arm coming around her tiny waist. The words were racing through Dean's mind, trying to straighten out and make sense of themselves. When Sam rose and took Shadrach's hand Dean turned his head back to his upside down bucket of sand. Lifting up the bucket, Dean watched his sand collapse, not forming anything but a big pile of slightly damp sand. He stared at it for awhile, wondering if he was the cheeseburger and how he could convince Sam that his salad was no good.


	5. Chapter 5

"You set?" Dean glanced from Shadrach on the bed to the TV were the Little Mermaid was playing. Shadrach only nodded, waving Dean away. He chuckled as he stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. He stared at the hard dark wood for a moment, taking a steadying breath. After ensuring himself he could handle this he turned around to face the living room-ish area. It was nice to be in a not so cheap hotel, even if it costs a little more. He told himself he really needed to get some money so Sam would stop spending his own on their expenses. The last thing he wanted his brother to think was that he was around only for the money.

Sam was on the couch, leaning forward to the coffee table and pouring rich amber liquid into a glass. Dean noted how his hand shook slightly around the bottle, causing some of the alcohol to splash along the surface of the table as he moved to fill the second glass. Crossing to the other side of the couch, Dean dropped down and leaned forward to take the glass when Sam pushed it toward him. "Thanks," he sipped from it for a moment before glancing at Sam. "Have you talked to Jess?"

"Dean," Sam smiled slightly, "is she settled? Should we leave the door open so we can hear her?" His brows dipped together a little in concern.

"She practically told me to get lost," Dean chuckled and shrugged. "She knows we're out here. I have a feeling she'll be just fine on her own. Besides she's worn out from today. She'll probably be asleep within minutes but if you're worried," he gestured toward the door with his glass before bringing it to his lips for another, longer drink.

Shrugging, Sam leaned back and kicked his feet up on the table. "M'not worried. Hey..." he looked around, "this is better than the dumps we used to stay in, yeah?"

"Much," Dean nodded in agreement and crossed his ankle on his knee, picking at his jeans. "So you never answered my question. Have you talked to your... Jess." He couldn't bring himself to say wife, it felt too weird.

"Ah yes, my _wife_." Sam let his head fall back onto the couch. "My _wife_ has left me several messages, and _no_ , I haven't talked to her. Right at the moment, let's see, I'm an embarrassment, disrespectful, and my personal favourite, a drunken loser." He looked over at Dean and huffed out a small laugh. "She's not far off, wouldn't you say?"

"No," Dean shook his head. He'd never hit a woman but Jess was pretty close to making him question that logic. "From what I've heard it doesn't sound like she's the best person to lay blame. Hell even Shaddy didn't like her and that kid got into a car with me because she said I looked _friendly_." He turned his head to look at Sam. "You've got baggage, maybe you've made some bad choices but I definitely wouldn't throw you in those categories."

Sam tilted his head with a wry grin on his face, "well, you're not married to me now are ya?" He held his drink up, "cheers."

With a slight frown Dean sipped from his glass. "Pretty sure that's illegal in all fifty states." It was a lame joke that he knew was going nowhere. Leaning forward Dean set the glass on the table and shifted so he could see Sam better. "Why do you stay with her? I mean, since you know she's not exactly..." he gestured with his hand, wondering when he'd cross a line with his brother and things they shouldn't discuss.

"Who else would want me, Dean? You don't know... I mean," he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, "you don't know what I'm like. Jess gets what she wants, and I get a... wife... someone to spend my life with." He blew a short breath out his nose, "what about you? You with anyone?" Not that he wouldn't want to kill them if they _were_ with Dean.

Snorting a laugh, Dean shook his head and grabbed his glass once more, finishing the contents inside. "Haven't dated anyone since high school Sam." He shrugged and moved forward to refill his glass.

Sam emptied his glass and slid it over so Dean could fill it again. "'Cept for..." Sam waved his hands around, gesturing so he didn't have to say it..."the... uh... guys," he added when Dean just looked confused.

Shaking his head Dean pushed Sam's half full glass back to him and settled back into the couch with his drink, sipping quietly. "Don't think fuckin' random strangers in the back of a bar really counts as dating." He bit his lip and searched his mind for a topic change. He really didn't want to discuss his random hook ups with his brother. "Even then it's been awhile, but whatever. So tell me about your work, what all do you do? Like, what type of cases are you working on?"

"Pretty much the opposite of what you and Dad always did; I help people with too much money and resources get away with crimes they _didn't_ commit." Sam took a drink and scratched his belly, "I'm good at it, probably because I don't have the sense to care whether people are telling me the truth. Doesn't really matter in the long run." Sam put his feet back on the floor and turned so he was facing Dean, pulling one leg up on the couch. "So - these guys - like the ones you picked up. Does that mean you're... you know..." he dipped his head a question in his eyes.

"Gay?" Dean filled in the blank and let the word hang there for a moment. Leave it Sam to press things. He thought over the string of people he'd been with for the past few years, definitely more men than women, but there had been women. A few. Maybe like, three or four and they'd only given him blow jobs but it counted for something. "No. I've... there were a few girls I just didn't like..." he sighed and shook his head, taking another long drink. In truth he'd just been looking for anything that made him feel the way Sam had, made more sense to try and find it with a guy though he never really did. "Haven't really thought enough about it to classify it as anything. Besides me just being me I guess."

Sam blinked, "the few girls... you just didn't like... what? What were you gonna say?" Sam poured himself another drink.

"They were just blow jobs," Dean found himself confessing and he turned to Sam. "Why do you care so much who I've been with? Does it really matter?"

Flinching, Sam sat back a little, "sorry... just... making conversation."

"Okay..." Dean nodded and in a split second decided he'd play Sam's game. Might end in blows but there was also the chance it could end in something more and Dean thought it was a risk worth taking. "Sure, anything else you'd like to know? About... whatever." He shrugged and turned on the couch to face Sam.

Blinking, Sam's back stiffened. "You asked me about Jess, I just figured we were... _talking_ for once." He drained the rest of his glass.

"I wasn't being sarcastic. I mean it. You can ask me about my life," Dean frowned slightly and swirled the liquid in his glass. "Or we can talk more about yours. Hell we can talk about fuckin' football if you want. I... I want to talk to you." He shrugged and finished his drink, clutching at the glass tightly.

"Okay," Sam turned back to face Dean again, "Did you tell me that thing - about finding guys who looked like me - to _hurt_ me?" Even with the alcohol taking the edge off his nerves, Sam could feel his heart rate pick up a little.

Swallowing thickly, Dean killed some time by filling his glass. It certainly wasn't the question he was expecting but he said he'd answer so... "No. I just... I don't know, felt like you should know. Maybe I just couldn't keep it secret anymore." He shrugged and fell back against the couch, leaving his cup on the coffee table. A pleasant warmth was already traveling through him and he really thought it was best to keep his wits about him for whatever was to come. "Did it hurt you?"

Sam shrugged, hesitated, and then shook his head. "'Course not." He was lying. He was absolutely, without-a-doubt lying. Sam took another drink, sighing after the burn whipped down his throat. It had hurt Sam... everywhere.

Dean considered him silently for a few moments before dropping his eyes. "Did you... were you ever... with a... you know, guy." He fumbled over the words, gut twisting unpleasantly.

Sam looked up from under his eyelashes, then back down at his glass quickly. "I... it's compli... no... I guess not." Sam blew out a breath, "you wanna watch some TV? A horror movie or something?"

"Now you don't want to talk?" Dean arched an eyebrow, wondering what Sam was hiding. "What was complicated? What happened?" He shifted forward slightly, expectantly.

"I..I... told you before. There were some guys... but I didn't... I couldn't." He pushed his hair back off his face, "Do you ever see Dad? Does he ever ask about me?" Sam was hoping that bringing up Dad was still a good way to distract Dean.

Taking a moment to process this bit of information, Dean stored it away for a later conversation and let Sam change the topic. "We see each other every now and then. In the beginning he asked about you a lot... until I... well... he could tell it was something I didn't want to go into so he stopped. We don't talk much. It's been about six months or so since I last talked to him," he shrugged and picked at a loose thread on the couch. "I take it you and he don't ever..."

"No," Sam answered quickly, "no point. Can't tell him the truth about anything, too many things to slip up on. Rule number one of being a lawyer, Dean, _don't lie if you don't have to._ " He slapped his hand down on Dean's thigh, laughed, then realized what he'd done and snatched his hand back like it was on fire.

"I'm not gonna jump you if you touch me," Dean said a little sharper than he intended, thigh burning from the too brief contact. Shaking his head Dean reached up to rub at the back of his neck. "Why couldn't you get..." Dean thought of something Sam had said the other night when Sam was drunk - or _drunker_ \- and snapped his jaw shut. "Nevermind. Sorry." He didn't want to make Sam tell him why he couldn't get it up with some guy, didn't need to hear to know he was the reason behind it. Falling silent he reached out for his glass still full on the coffee table and brought it up to sip from.

"Why couldn't I get what?" Sam drained his glass, pleasantly drunk; he liked it when he reached the point where he didn't care about things as much. It was a nice place to be. "I thought we were _talking_." He didn't mean to sound quite as obnoxious as he did, but, it was unlikely to make things any worse.

Dean watched his brother go to fill his glass for another time and frowned. "You should take it easy. It's not like drinking’s going to make me disappear." He hated how he sounded so much like the older, chastising brother but the last thing he wanted was drunk Sam doing something stupid that could damage things further between them. If that were possible.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I know how much I can drink, Dean, trust me. I've had a lot of practice. Got really hammered for the first time the night I left yo... home. Found this guy at a truck stop," he leaned closer as though to tell Dean a secret, "I think he _wanted_ me."

Dean's jaw tightened as he looked at Sam, eyebrows furrowing, "I think you've already had enough Sam." He didn't want to hear about some guy who wanted his brother, didn't want anyone to want his brother outside of himself which was pretty fucked up and selfish but Dean had long since adjusted to those feelings.

"Whatever, Dean, lighten up." He slid Dean's glass back towards him, "here, have some more. Trust me - it makes everything better." He leaned back on the couch again and kicked his feet back up on the table. "We're talkin', I like this talkin' thing." It was nice to know that he wasn't the only Winchester brother who was tied in knots over this weird _thing_ between them.

"God Sam, if you're life is so fuckin' bad you'd rather be drunk every night then why don't you _do_ something about it." Dean snapped, arms folding together on his chest. It wasn't how he was planning to start this conversation but he went with it anyway. "It's not like you're the only one whose life is shit. You're not the only one who constantly feels like they're dead inside, who thinks they have to get drunk, or sleep with random people, just to _feel_ something."

Sam's eyes were wide, "I don't sleep with anyone." He let the words just hang there in the room.

"That's what I do." Dean snapped. "I used to the drunk thing until I reached a breaking point then it changed." He swept his tongue across his suddenly dry lips and looked down at his legs.

"So... just so as I know that I'm on top of everything. Sleeping with guys you don't know... that don't mean anything - is better than drinking. Yeah, that makes a lot of sense." Sam laughed and shook his head.

"At least I'm not making a constant ass of myself," Dean observed and frowned. "Besides it's not like I do it every night. Or even every week. Hell the last time I fucked someone was three months ago. Leads to reason I've got a much better handle on myself then you do."

"Okay, Dean, whatever gets you through the night," Sam leaned forward and grabbed the bottle to pour himself another drink.

Against his better judgment Dean lurched forward and grabbed at the bottle, snatching it from Sam's grip and pulling it back from him. "At some point in time you're gonna have to accept that fact that you're the only reason you're still miserable Sam. And you sure aren't going to do it while you’re drunk."

Sam turned slowly and looked at his brother, "I think you and I _both_ know that I'm not the only reason I'm miserable. You want to go over it again? I gave you an out - so you could feel better about yourself - _not_ \- so you could put it all back on me like I'm some spoiled kid who needs guidance." He shook his head and looked down, "you... you don't..." he shook his head harder, "I'm not doing this." He stood up and paced over to the window, pulling the curtain back and looking out.

Pushing off the couch Dean crossed toward him, hanging a few feet back and saying softly, "I've already told you that me telling you to leave was _never_ about not wanting you. How many times do I have to repeat it before it gets through to you? I've _always_ wanted you. Will _always_. And I'm willing to admit I fucked up some things back then but that's done now. It's over. There's no changing it. The only thing left now is to go forward and you're too stuck in this rut to let that happen." Dean set the bottle on the window seal beside Sam. "So you want to spend the rest of your life stuck in some shit job you hate with a wife that sleeps around on you until you die at a young age because you've poisoned your liver, well, you're a grown up now and I'm not gonna tell you what to do. But I'm here, should you decide that there is the possibility and opportunity to still make something of your life." He finished with a huff, stepping back slightly and dropping his hands to his sides.

Sam rounded on Dean, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and pushing him back until he slammed into the wall. He was shaking, tears welling in his eyes. "What's outside my rut Dean? A divorced, ex-lawyer with no family and a drinking problem?" He pulled Dean forward enough to slam him back against the wall again. "I'm not _stuck_ Dean, there's nothing there... you think... y..y..you think I can _ever_ get that close to anyone again? I... I... loved you... you were everything to me." He pressed Dean against the wall, his face just inches away from his brother's, "I offered you..." he blinked, "me... and you didn't want me... you sent me away, so you tell me, _brother_ how do I _ever_ do that again? You tell me that and I'll step out of my _rut_." He pried his shaking hands off Dean's shirt and stumbled a step back. It was too much being that close to him.

Dean blinked at his brother, slightly stunned for a moment before he regrouped. "You just won't believe me will you?" Dean stepped toward Sam, crowding in on his space and reaching up to cup the man's face with both hands, holding him there. "Sam. I always did, always will, want you. Even now. Even as a divorced, ex-lawyer with a drinking problem." Tears welled along his eyes and he tightened his hold on Sam, refusing to let the man pull away. "I am what's outside of your rut. _Me_. You take that step and I'll be here, I _am_ here. We can't change what happened before but we can fix this. We can fix _us_." His thumb dragged along Sam's cheek for a moment before he dropped his hands, not moving but giving Sam the option to if he wanted. The words nagged at his mind for a moment but he shoved them to the side, focusing in on his brother, inches apart, so close Dean could feel the heat from his body and if he moved forward just a little their hips would brush, their chests would rest together.

Sam's lashes fluttered closed and he tilted his head into his brother's touch. He let out a breath that ended in a tiny sound, almost like a strangled whimper. A shaking hand moved to cover his eyes for a few moments. Dean might be right, he might be telling the truth, even when he could feel the heat of his brother's body he couldn't take the step. It was always too far.

His knees buckled and he sank to the floor, wrapping his arms around Dean's legs. The sob that broke out of him completely stole his breath, it was like trying to breathe water. Sam was shaking, trying to say he was sorry, terrified to let go and terrified to hang on.

Gasping softly Dean pried Sam's arms from around him long enough to drop to his brother's side and gather him close. He couldn't even remember the last time he'd seen Sam cry like this, or if he ever had before. It shook him right to his core and the only thing he could do was wrap tight arms around his body, shifting awkwardly on the floor for the best angle. "S'okay Sammy, I got you," he said softly, hand stroking through his brother's hair. It felt _so_ good to have the man back in his arms, to breathe in the scent that was a lot alcohol with undercurrents of familiarity Dean thought he'd always remember. He continued a soft litany of soothing words for awhile as his fingers shifted through the silky length of his brother's hair, tilting his head slightly to press a kiss to Sam's forehead.

Panting, Sam pulled back so he could look into his brother's eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it and wiped his hand down his face. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, eyes still locked with Dean's. He'd always loved his brother's eyes. Never forgotten that green. Sam slanted his mouth over his brother's, parted his lips and kissed him. His breath shuddered out against Dean's lips and his head fell back, arms circling Dean's neck and pulling him close. "M'sorry, sorry... don't..."

Dean clung to Sam, mind still trying to catch up with the far too brief feel of Sam's lips against his. Pulling back slightly Dean shook his head. "Don't apologize," he insisted, cupping Sam's jaw for a moment before letting his hand flatten out, sliding along the back of Sam's neck and bring him forward. His eyes fell shut moments before their lips touched and Dean took a moment to memorize the moment before he brushed his lips over Sam's. It was like stepping back in time all over again only Sam's lips weren't as small and the distinct bitter tinge of alcohol tainted them. Still Dean found his mouth opening slightly, moving along Sam's slowly as he struggled against the nerves curling through him. His fingers curled in Sam's hair - he liked it longer like this he found, much more to hold onto. Tentatively he snaked his tongue out to trace the curve of his brother's lower lip.

Moaning, his body almost slack in Dean's arms, Sam's mouth opened, his tongue sliding out shyly to chase Dean's. It was gentle, Sam still nervous, afraid that Dean would pull away from him at any moment. He leaned into his brother until he was resting against Dean's chest, his hand slipping down to curve over his brother's hip. He licked along Dean's bottom lip and sucked it into his mouth, savouring the silky fullness. Biting down he tugged gently then let go, pulling back and looking down, resting his forehead against Dean's cheek.

The rush of feeling through him was more than Dean anticipated and he sucked in a shaky breath, trying to control the sudden rampage of emotions. Everything was so... intense. Dean marvelled at finding himself here after so long, at the way the ache that seemed so always present was fading off just slightly. He lost track of how long they stayed tangled together until a tiny clearing of a throat had him pulling up slightly and turning.

Shadrach stood just inside the room, Winslow Bear between her hands, a small smile on her face. "You've fixed it?" She asked, tilting her head to the side.

Sam started, shifting towards Shadrach and away from Dean. "I... we..." he looked over at Dean.

"Maybe not completely but we're getting there," Dean said softly, catching Sam's arm, not wanting there to be any space between them then there had to be.

Her smile growing slightly wider, Shadrach crossed to them and pulled off the backpack over her shoulders, handing Sam the stuffed bear before pulling open the pink bag. She sorted through the contents silently for a few minutes before she pulled out an item, curling it between her tiny fist. Rezipping the backpack she hooked it over her shoulders and reached out for the bear again, setting two silver rings in Sam's now open palm. "So you always remember me. And how important it is." She nodded and took a step back.

Sam stared down at the rings, then back up at Shadrach. "What... remember you? What's happening?" His eyes darted to Dean's profile, "Dean?"

Dean's eyes widened slightly as he looked down at the rings before turning to Shadrach. "You're not... there's a reason you're here."

Shadrach pulled the bear up to her chest and circled her arms around him. "Do you want to hear a story?" She asked sweetly and Dean - like Sam - could only nod, both too confused to understand what was happening. "A long time ago there were two brothers and they loved each other very much but that love tore them apart. And we watched from the background above the rainbow as one killed the other and set the course for mankind." She sighed softly and stroked the bear in her grasp. "From then one we decided that should the path of two lovers be so badly severed, we would fix it. Especially if we knew there was still hope. Like with you two." Shadrach grinned and stepped forward to press a kiss to Sam's cheek and then Dean's. "I think you've been my absolute _favourites_. Though mommy says not to have favourites."

Dean blinked several times and leaned toward Sam. "Any of this making sense to you?"

Sam shrugged, hand still open and cradling the rings. "Shad? Are you... gonna have to go home now?"

"I think it's about time," Shadrach nodded sadly. "I don't think much more can change while you still have to look after me." She pressed her lips together for a moment, considering them. "It's gonna be okay. Thank you for everything, Dean Bean, Sammy, I'll never forget you."

"Wait," Dean pushed up to his knees, crawling across the floor to her and pulling her close for a tight hug. "I don't really understand who or uh, what, you are, but... thank you. For... everything." He sat back on his heels, surprised by how sad he felt at the idea of not having the little girl around any longer.

Shadrach smiled and reached up to flick Dean's nose. "You're welcome." With bright eyes she turned to Sam and opened her arms with a large smile.

Sam slid forward and wrapped Shadrach in his arms, burying his face in her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered.

Shadrach laid her hand on Sam's hair for a moment as she whispered, "You're also welcome," before stepping back. "Now play nice boys, I don't get to have second tries." She smiled and took a few more steps back, looking up.

Dean wasn't really sure what he expected, a flash of light or _something_ , but she was simply gone. There one moment gone the next with the blink of his eyes. The room felt oddly empty for a few minutes as him and Sam sat in contemplative silence. Finally Dean spoke, "So... who do you think those two brothers were?"

"I know exactly who they were," Sam raised his eyebrows, "Cain and Abel, she told me a... man... this is nuts." Sam shook his head and huffed out a laugh. "We're going to wake up now right? None of this will have happened?"

"I hope not," Dean said softly and reached out to take one of the rings from Sam's hand, slipping it on his finger. "Maybe that's why she left the rings. I feel like maybe I should do some research and figure out exactly who she was but... I'd kind of rather not know. It's just... I mean it's not like I could have raised a kid anyway." He shrugged and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them.

"You could have..." Sam fiddled with the ring in his hand, rolling it back and forth across his palm. He shrugged, "you were a good older brother." He didn't look up, still scared of what he might see in Dean's eyes.

"Yeah well it was easy to love you," Dean offered with a shrug and turned slightly to gaze at Sam. "So... well... I guess that means we've figured out where she belongs. Funny, she was trying to tell us all along. I just thought she was really... weird." He chuckled softly and let his legs fall, scooting a little closer to Sam. His heart sped up, wondering what it meant now that Shadrach was no longer part of the equation. Would Sam be leaving? Would they follow her advice, play nice, continue that kiss from moments before? Dean was personally rooting for the kiss and he shifted so his leg pressed flush against Sam's. "Now what?" He forced himself to ask.

Sam slipped the ring on to his finger, twisting it back and forth. "I guess, I have to make some decisions."

Nodding, Dean stared at the place the ring was, eyes drifting to the wedding band on Sam's left hand. Yeah, Sam's married. He hadn't forgotten so much as purposefully not reminded himself. "Yeah, guess so." Dean wondered where he fit in that, what would be best for his brother. Instead of trying to guess he simply asked, "What can I do? I mean... do you need space? Time to think? What would be best for you?"

"D..Don't do that." Sam looked up finally, "I think... I need to be with you." His eyes were glassy when he looked up, "you said you'd be here... you know," he smiled, "when I got out of my rut."

"I'm not gonna go anywhere," Dean said softly and slid forward to pull Sam into a hug. "Except maybe off this floor. My ass is getting numb." He chuckled softly as he stood up, offering his hand to Sam to help pull him up.

Sam let his brother haul him up off the floor and then ran both hands through his hair. "Fuck, Dean, it's a deep rut." The full weight of everything was starting to bear down on him. "I... _jesus_... I... what am I going to say to Jess?" He could feel panic building in him.

"Hey, it's gonna be okay," Dean cupped Sam's face. "You know Jess has been sleeping around, I'm thinking if you call her on it well... no one would expect you to stay with someone who's cheated on you. It's gonna take some work but... I promise to walk with you through every step alright? One thing at a time." He leaned in and rested their foreheads together, breathing softly the air swirling around them.

Slowly, the tightness in Sam's chest loosened a little, "okay. I... my job... you can't just write a resignation letter when you're an associate. I want my car; I don't want Jess to get rid of my car. What will I do? I never even asked really, do you still hunt? Is that what I've gotta do?" Sam started to pace back and forth, "I need a drink."

"Deep breaths Sam," Dean said calmly, stepping into the role of older brother as easily as if he'd never left. "You don't need a drink. In fact that's gonna be one of those things we'll have to work on. But everything doesn't have to be fixed tonight okay? Let's decide what action you want to take first. Is the car in your name? No reason you should have to lose it." He caught his brother's arm mid pace and held him there. "Sammy, look at me. We'll get through this alright? I promise."

"I... maybe I'm not ready for all this... at once I mean..." Sam eyed the bottle on the table then took a step back towards his brother. "I never told Jess I had a brother." He scratched his head and squeezed his eyes shut for a few moments. "I don't wanna talk to Dad, okay? Don't make me talk to Dad." He started to pace again, wringing his hands.

"I'm not gonna make you do anything you don't want to," Dean said softly and ran a hand through his hair. "And if I recall you did call me your brother in the note you left. Dude you don't really owe her much of an explanation. Leave me out of it if it's easier, tell her I'm your jacked up brother you were ashamed to admit to before, whatever feels easiest." Dean knew he wasn't being very helpful but it didn't seem like Sam was going calm down much with words right now. "Seriously Sam, you can do this."

"Jacked up..." Sam repeated slowly, "no, I'll tell her the truth. Shouldn't I do that? Dean?" Sam passed the mirror on the far wall, his eyes were fevered, a little closer to wild than they should be. He started shaking his head. "I think maybe... no... maybe... I should just wait a while. Think about things. Don't you think maybe I owe Jess that much? She was there - I mean when I was the most fucked up - she was the one who stayed with me... not you...“ his eyes widened, "don't take that.."

Dean sighed and walked over to Sam. Obviously his brother needed a dose of reality. He chose to not be offended by the remark - though his heart did twinge a little - and his hands fell to Sam's shoulders, turning him around. "Sam. You're wife is fucking another man. You don't _owe_ her anything. Do you understand? Sure you have issues and maybe those drove her a bit too it but when the person you're with is struggling you stick by their side and help them out. You don't go out and sleep with other men. Okay? Now I know you and you're freaking out about being an ass, but you don't have to be. I mean... do you love her?" Dean stopped suddenly, the thought slamming so hard to the front of his mind he didn't even realize he hadn't thought it before. His hands dropped and he stepped back, surprised by the sudden queasy shake of his stomach. "Shit. God sorry I'm... I'm being a selfish ass. She's your wife. You do what you think is best." He took another step back and blinked down at his hands.

This was one of _those_ times when Sam knew that the words he chose were more important than anything else. "I love who she was, Dean. I... this is my fault. If I could have been what she... what she thought she was marrying she would be different as well, and you and I wouldn't even be standing here." He turned, "You're not being selfish, what is it you want to know Dean? Do you want to know how I feel about her? Or how I feel about you?"

He swallowed thick, caught off guard by the cold wash over him. Why had it never occurred to him that Sam would love his wife? It was ridiculous not to think so. And here Dean was, once more fucking everything up in Sam's life. "I don't..." he shook his head and walked to the couch, dropping down heavily because he really doubted his knees could hold him up any longer. Reality had never smacked him in the face so hard and Dean sorted through the right response. "Sammy..." he breathed and stared down at the ring on his hand. It was all Shadrach's fault of course, and Dean instantly felt like a dick for blaming this new whirlwind of emotions in him on a seven year - or well, if she knew Cain and Abel she definitely wasn't seven. "Let's just... the drinking thing is the first... maybe if we can fix that everything else will right itself."

Sam stood there, not moving, not even understanding what was going through his own mind let-alone Dean's. "Dean... one of us has to be a little sane here and it's a bad sign if I feel like it's me." He walked over to the couch and dropped down beside Dean. "Okay, things are getting a little away from us here." He turned to look at Dean, taking a deep breath and reaching out to grab his brother's hand. "What's wrong? Are you okay? The look on your face is kinda scaring me and, let's be honest, I could do without anything else to worry about. Are you changing your mind?" Sam looked down at his thumb as it moved back and forth over the back of Dean's hand, "it's okay if you are."

"No Sam, I... I love you more than anything and the idea of having you in my life again..." he wet his lips and looked back up at Sam with a shaky sigh. "I just... forgot or purposefully ignored the fact that you loved Jess enough to marry her, and that you likely still have those feelings. And I feel like once again I'm the reason you're not having the life you deserve. So that combined with the huge part of me that wants to be selfish and claim you as mine... it's just a bit overwhelming. I've been so numb and aching these past eight years, my emotions aren't used to the upheaval." He dropped his gaze, watching Sam's thumb along his skin.

Sam followed his brother's gaze. "Should I not do that? Touch you I mean?"

"It's the only thing I really want," Dean whispered, lifting his eyes back up to Sam's. "You to touch me. Me to touch you. And all that includes." A faint blush coloured his cheeks but he continued to gaze at Sam's features.

A deep breath signalled Sam's relief. "Dean... that's a good step right? I mean," the corners of Sam's mouth turned up slightly, "that I didn't punch you and say I was leaving - when I thought you had changed your mind? Right?" He was still looking for reassurance, maybe always would be, always the little brother.

Smiling a little Dean nodded. "Yeah, that's a good step." He sighed softly and leaned forward, wanting to slide his lips against Sam's. He broke off halfway there and instead let his face rest against Sam's shoulder, turning to breath against the man's neck. "We'll get there." He said softly.

Sam's hand smoothed Dean's hair, his other settling on his brother's thigh. "You can... if you want..." he pulled back a little and licked his lips. "Kiss me... I mean..." he could feel the blush sliding up his flesh. "We have to take things one step at a time, that makes sense. Dean? Could you help me to stop talking?" He smiled.

Dean's smile tugged up more and he shifted forward. "I want..." he nodded and cupped the back of Sam's neck, bringing him forward. This kiss was different from the two brief ones on the floor. For one Sam's face wasn't damp from tears and this time Dean allowed himself to really enjoy it, now that the shock of having it back wasn't so strong. He took his time brushing his lips along Sam's, dropping a kiss to one side of Sam's mouth the, then the other, then the middle before tilting his head and slanting their lips together. Both mouths seemed to open instantly but Dean kept his tongue back, sliding his lips along his brother's, almost eager to feel Sam's tongue being the one to slip forward. He shifted on the couch, trying to get a better angle.

It was slow and gentle and Sam could feel some of his fears slipping away. He sucked shyly on Dean's bottom lip, _God_ he loved those lips. A shudder ran through his body, his back arched unconsciously and his tongue slipped past his lips tracing the shape of Dean's mouth. A moan slipped out of his mouth and his tongue slid forward pushing into Dean's silky wet heat. Sam moved his tongue slowly, soaking up the shapes, the lines, the textures of his brother's mouth. His hands drifted up to slide up in to Dean's hair, holding him there, _I'm keeping you,_ he thought.

Dean's moan was louder than he intended and the desire for _more_ shot through him so fast he pulled back slightly, hovering inches from Sam's lips. "Jesus Sammy... can't even... tell..." he sucked in a sharp breath and pushed forward again to slid his lips along Sam's, slipping his tongue in quickly before darting back again. "So good to kiss you. But we gotta... before I can't..." he pulled in another deep breath and pressed a closed mouth kissed to Sam's lips, dropping his forehead to Sam's. "Gonna go crazy if we keep up that and expect nothing more." He chuckled softly, hand trailing down Sam's back and coming to rest on his thigh.

Sam's voice was soft, low, "You said we'd get through this alright... I believe you." Blowing out a breath and smiling, Sam pulled back and stood, dragging Dean up with him. "I need to sleep..." his eyes darted away, "come with me? I won't... we shouldn't... unless you can't..." He closed his eyes. "You can totally mess with my head if you want... I deserve it." He grinned, blushing brighter than he ever had. "I just don't want you to go anywhere - you can sleep in the other bed if you want." His jaw snapped shut.

"I want to sleep..." Dean tugged Sam close and breathed into his ear, "holding you. In fact, that sounds just... perfect." He grinned and rested his lips along Sam's for a moment before stepping back and heading for the door, tugging Sam with him. When he stepped into the room he noticed a white envelope in the place where Shadrach's duffel bag had been. Frowning he stepped forward and picked it up, blinking at the money inside. Turning to Sam he barked out a surprised laugh. "Refund policy? God whatever she was they sure are weird." He set the envelope to the side and pulled at his shirt, tugging it off before working at his jeans and glance at Sam. "It's alright if... boxers on of course."

Licking his lips, Sam nodded and yanked his shirt off over his head, unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans and kicked his way out of them. He ran and leaped onto the bed, scrambling under the covers, then sat up, mess of brown hair hanging in his eyes, grinning.

Stopping to stare at him, Dean had a distinct moment where he felt a little like he'd stepped back in time. Of course this had happened several times tonight - and over the past few days - so Dean figured he was just readjusting to life with Sam. _Life with Sam._ The thought had him grinning and he kicked out of his jeans as well, darting across the room to turn off the light before nearly running to the bed his brother was in, flopping hard across it and landing on Sam heavily with an escaped whoosh of air.

Sam groaned and then laughed and wrestled Dean under the covers until he could press up against his side. He took a deep breath and yanked Dean's arm up so he could slip under it and rest his cheek on his brother's chest. His arm tightened over his brother's chest and he threw his leg over Dean's. "Good?"

"Very," Dean nodded and shifted until he was comfortable, arm curling protectively around Sam as his eyes drifted closed. "See you in the morning Sammy."

Sam nodded against his brother's chest and pressed his lips there for a moment.


	6. Chapter 6

The moment Sam was awake he felt the warmth of Dean's body and a smile worked its way onto his face. He knew they had a long road ahead of them - some fairly serious challenges - but for that moment, things were good. Sam felt a little bit of hope, that there might be a chance for him.

Of course, there were hurdles, not the least of which was Jess. If Jess decided on a messy and complicated divorce - things would get ugly.

Sam leaned down and rested his lips against Dean's hair.

They'd made it to the first stepping stone thanks to Shadrach. Sam felt a pang of sadness now that he was thinking about her. He had no idea where she had come from - although - he wouldn't have refused her help anyway.

Dean stirred in Sam's arms and rolled over on to his back. Sam smiled. His brother's face was so different when he was sleeping; smooth and peaceful. He trailed his fingers down over Dean's cheek and along his jaw. Sam's heart lurched in his chest, still not one hundred percent convinced that he could have this. There was probably nothing in Sam's world that was more worth a try though.

His hand slid down over Dean's chest, setting on the curve of his hip, fingers running over the smooth materials of his boxers. There was a smile on Sam's face when he shifted down so he could slant his mouth over Dean's and kiss him awake; his tongue moved slowly along the seam of his brother's lips then pushed past them. Desire began to uncoil deep inside Sam.

Dean woke with a moan, instantly stirring up into the kiss. Everything was _Sam_ and it was the best way to wake up. Dean couldn't possible imagine anything better. Shifting to free his arms, Dean curled them around his brother, one hand spreading open to lace into Sam's hair. Once he'd completely registered Sam's tongue against his, he became more aware of fingers dancing along his hips and they rolled against the mattress as Dean arched up. A moan worked its way up his throat and Dean pushed his tongue roughly against Sam's, shoving his way into his brother's mouth. The hand not tangled in Sam's hair slid down the smooth panes of his back, along the skin until fingers danced along the waistband. He hesitated for a moment before shoving his hand roughly below and cupping the firm curve of Sam's ass, squeezing beneath his palm as his tongue thrust forward once more.

Sam's mouth opened in a silent moan and he trembled rolling his hips against Dean's leg. "D..Dean..." he murmured against his brother's lips, "I... want... but... there are... things..." Sam's tongue snaked past Dean's lips again; their tongues tangled together, the muscles of Sam's ass tightening under his brother's grip. It was like something solid deep inside him started to melt a little; he moaned softly and pulled his mouth away from Dean's. " _Jesus_ , good morning."

A smirk tilted up Dean's lip and he squeezed Sam's ass firmly before releasing and pulling his hand back. "Mm mornin'," he mumbled, still slightly sleepy and brushed his lips along Sam's. "Feel free to wake me up like that always okay?" He chuckled roughly and arched up his body beneath Sam's stretching against him. His fingers danced along Sam's back, palm fitting into the curve above the waist line. He was already semi hard and he considered climbing off the bed to ensure nothing more happened but well, it was _so_ warm Dean couldn't be bothered to move.

Letting his eyes close for a few moments, Sam rolled so he could throw his leg over Dean's, his thigh nudging up against his brother's semi-hard shaft. Sam rubbed his nose along Dean's cheek and whispered, "every morning if you want..." Sam hadn't woken up beside someone in a long time, let alone someone he _wanted_. The nights Jess did come to their king size bed there was an impassable chasm between them. Sam sighed, shifting his hips, pressing his thigh harder against his brother.

Rolling his hips down into Sam's thigh, Dean groaned and tightened his fingers still laced in Sam's hair. "Every morning," he repeated and nodded, a harsh groan curling through him. "God Sammy," he breathed, pulling his brother in for another kiss. He shifted his own leg between Sam's legs and met the steady rhythm of pressing forward, rolling hips. His heart felt like it was going to explode in his chest. After all this time Dean had never thought he'd be in this place with Sam, it was the perfect type of surreal. Thrusting his tongue into Sam's mouth once more, Dean's moan was closer to a soft whimper.

The sound jolted Sam a little and he pulled back, his lips leaving Dean's reluctantly. He wanted so many things, but he wanted them when the time was right. He wasn't going to _use_ Dean to help bury the feelings he had about what was to come. It seemed somehow, disrespectful... like a lie. Rolling away from Dean, Sam flopped on to his back and reached down to adjust his boxers. "Need to do this right," he murmured.

With a soft groan Dean nodded and slid his hands up in his hair, tugging softly. "Yeah, yeah..." he knew Sam was right though he really wished he wasn't. "Need a shower," he mumbled but didn't move, far to aroused to attempt actual walking right now. Chuckling softly he let his head fall to the side to consider his brother. "You wanna go first?"

"You go," he wasn't walking across the room in _just_ his boxers with a raging hard on -he'd never hear the end of it. He was still getting used to the idea of himself being sexual. He wasn't going to tell Dean, but it had been a very long time.

 _Dean nodded but stayed where he was. "So what's the plan for today?" He asked, reaching out to lay his hand over Sam's._

 _"Call my wife? Let her chew me a new one for a while? Figure out where to go from there?" Sam's smile faded. She was going to eat him alive._

 _Bringing up the woman dimmed Dean's painful erection enough he managed to slide of the side of the bed, crossing to his duffel. "You gonna call her or would you rather go there?" He sorted through the bag, pulling out some clothes._

 _"Fuck," was all Sam could come up with. "What do you think?"_

 _"Guess it depends on how much of the conversation you're gonna have." He sighed and crossed to the side of the bed Sam was on. "Probably better in person but you think on it." He dipped down, cupping Sam's cheek and sliding their lips together. "Gonna shower." He murmured against his brother’s lips, deepening the kiss for a moment before stepping back and heading for the bathroom._

 _Sam let his head drop back into the pillow. _This_ This was going to be a _long_ day._

Sliding into the passenger seat later that day, tossing his backpack in the back seat; it felt like the most natural thing in the world. Sam's mouth was curled into a soft smile most of the day. After about an hour in the car, Sam shifted on the seat resting his arm along the back, then settled his fingers against the back of Dean's neck. Glancing at Dean's face out of the corner of his eye, he could tell it was okay - by the flush that crept up his brother's neck. Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, Sam grinned and watched the road fly past.

Unfortunately for Sam, the miles flew by quickly and a gas station, two diners and three pit stops later the Winchesters were parked across the street from Sam's house. Sam reached out for Dean's hand across the seat, threading their fingers together. He'd been silent since they pulled up, lost in thought and Dean just sat there.

Sam cleared his throat. "So - you got any last minute advice?"

"Can't say I have much experience in these types of things," Dean said softly and smoothed his thumb along Sam's hand. Turning to face Sam he reached out with his other hand and squeezed his brother's thigh. "Just rest assured that I'll be going nowhere. I'll be right here when it's over, waiting for you. Okay?" He smiled softly. "I'd give you a kiss for luck but... well..." he gestured toward the house and shrugged.

Leaning over Sam pressed his lips to the corner of Dean's mouth, lingering there, breathing in his brother's scent. "Just... make sure you're here, okay?" Sam could bear a lot of things, but walking out the door later to find the car gone and _no_ sign of his brother - wasn't one of them. He was pretty sure his eyes reflected how scared he was to open the door and walk away from the car - he just hoped Dean knew it was nothing to do with Jess.

"Not going anywhere," Dean reached out and cupped Sam's jaw for a moment, smiling in encouragement. "I'm just gonna sit here and consider the colors of the rainbow." He chuckled, heart clenching a little as a flash of Shadrach's bright grin shot in front of his eyes. "See you in a bit?"

Nodding, Sam squeezed Dean's fingers and opened the door. Stuffing his hands in his jogged across the road, strode up the path to his house, hesitated a few moments and disappeared inside.

Dean watched the door swing shut and spared a moment to flinch inwardly for his brother. He didn't envy him the conversation he was about to have. And as he sympathized for his brother, he really just couldn't wait for Sam to be back in the car. For them to be on the road, away from all this. He wanted to get on with his life, now that there was something worth getting on with. Just thinking about things to come with Sam had his heart rate quickening. There were so many _things_ he wanted to experience with the man, and - if he was being honest - less than half were sexual. Those other things had more to do with _living_.

He wanted to wake up with someone - like this morning - wanted to have someone to watch crappy horror movies with, or to mock cheesy romance movies with. All those things he used to have with Sam before everything changed. There had never been much reason to care about sentimental things before but when Dean thought about Sam... well, he could imagine something close to sentimental. As sentimental as they'd ever be. And maybe that only translated to waking up earlier than the man to get them breakfast or going out of his way to rent a movie Sam had wanted to see, whatever it was, Dean knew it would work for them.

Clearly they'd been meant to be, even if it broke all those moral and logical rules. Someone was rooting for them, if Shadrach's visit had been anything to go by.

Dean let his eyes scan the front of the house for awhile, wondering what was happening inside. He couldn't see through the window and when he rolled down his window a moment later he didn't hear any yelling. That seemed like a pretty good sign. Fidgeting in his seat, Dean shifted his hips and slid lower, scanning up and down the street for a few minutes before turning back to Sam's house. A few minutes later the door opened again and Dean watched Sam stepped out, balancing two boxes, a suit bag and his duffel. Jess didn't come chasing after him, in fact Dean didn't even see her, and Dean tried to judge from the way his brother walked how he was feeling.

Climbing out of the car, Dean pulled open the back door for Sam as he approached. "How did it go?" He asked, taking to top box from Sam.

Sam shrugged a shoulder and dropped the bottom box onto the seat. He cleared his throat and leaned both hands on the roof of the car for a second, dropping his head down between his shoulders. He took a few deep breaths, "I called my friend Steve, he's coming by to pick up my car. He helped me fix it up, left the keys with Jess." It seemed crazy that the car was his biggest worry. _Crazy_. He could feel that Dean was worried, sense the tension from just behind him. "It's... can we go somewhere... a room or something?" There were tears in Sam's eyes when he looked over his shoulder at his brother.

"Yeah, okay," Dean nodded and slid the box into the backseat next to the one Sam had put in. He reached out to squeeze Sam's arm for a moment before climbing back in the front seat. He didn't ask Sam about what was said, knew that his brother would mention it if he felt like discussing things. Either way Sam looked on the verge of a break down and Dean knew that couldn't happen in the car in front of what was now Sam's old house.

They headed to a motel near the edge of town and Dean jogged into the main office to get a room, slipping back in the car to take them around the building to their room. His eyes followed Sam out of the car moments before he slipped out, locking the car doors and following him up to their room. "You okay?" He asked quietly as he turned the lock in the door, darting a look at Sam before pushing the door open.

"M'good." Sam scratched his head and pushed past Dean into the room. He shrugged out of his jacket and threw it over the back of the chair. "She had my stuff ready to go," he carded his fingers through his hair, "guess the whole _taking a trip with my brother_ note didn't go over too well." Sam looked around the room, a puzzled expression on his face. He didn't want to think about it; didn't want to think about how he'd invested everything he had into the last eight years and it was all gone. It wasn't that he needed it... he just felt cut-adrift... a bit like he had just a big, dark tunnel ahead of him. He gestured vaguely toward the TV, "you want to watch a game or something? We could get some beers..."

"Probably best if we don't," Dean shrugged and dropped onto the bed, considering Sam's features. "Have you given any thought to your job? I mean... obviously you'll quit that place but did you want to look for a different firm to join? Somewhere else? Or is there something else you'd like to go into?"

Sam blinked, "I assumed that we... I thought..." Sam looked down. Realization flooded through his body. Why would Dean want Sam hunting with him? Sam had no experience; he was pretty unreliable at the moment. "I guess, well, I'm sure I can find something." Sam wandered over to the front window and pushed the curtains back. "Can you help me find a place somewhere? I can find a job at some community agency or something."

"Oh okay," Dean nodded and stared at his hands before speaking. "Cause you'd rather... I mean... you wouldn't want to hunt with me, would you? I know it's never been your thing but I'm sure I could figure something out, work in an auto shop or something..." Dean rubbed at the back of his neck then realized Sam had said find _me_ a place and he flushed softly with embarrassment. "Or whatever."

Sam turned to face Dean reaching out to tug at the hem of his brother's t-shirt. "You would hunt with me?" The words were clear, but the answer was important to Sam. Hunting with Dean, having his brother's back - if Dean trusted Sam to do that it meant that Sam was worth something.

"Of course," Dean looked up at him. "I just figured you wouldn't want too after so many years."

"I'm good at research, and I can help out with legal stuff." Sam's fingers glanced over the warm flesh of Dean's stomach and he felt the muscles quiver under his touch. "I'm used to you, and your rules... in the car I mean."

Dean smirked at him and reached out to run his hand along Sam's side. "Oh yeah? Who says I don't have a whole new set of rules?" He curled his fingers around Sam's hipbone, pulling him closer and spreading his legs so Sam could step between them.

"So, it's okay then?" _I can stay with you_. "I can get rid of most of my stuff. I don't really have much I need to keep." Sam stepped forward, pressing up against Dean's body. Sam pressed his hand onto Dean's chest, feeling the cool metal of his pendent under his palm. He smiled and looked into his brother's eyes, "let's go celebrate."

Dean shifted forward and dropped his head to press a few kisses along Sam's flesh. "Alright what did you have in mind?"

"Let's go... find a bar, have a drink and a greasy cheeseburger." He let his head fall back, inviting Dean to move his lips lower. Dean's lips brushing over his flesh; something he'd thought he would never feel again.

Opening his mouth a little wider Dean sucked in a piece of flesh below Sam's collarbone, teeth grazing along the flesh. "Mm sounds good." He could have said something about the drinking thing but he figured being in a bar was an easier to place to keep it to just a drink or two and he wanted to give Sam that level of trust. His fingers curled tighter around Sam's hips as he flushed their bodies together, working his lips along every bit of Sam's neck within his reach.

Heat shot down Sam's body. He was starting to believe that Dean's lips were the most amazing thing about him, if he never had anything else from his brother he could settle for having Dean's mouth on him every possible moment. "We... uh... we should probably..." Sam licked his lips and turned to nuzzle into Dean's hair, "go... or... "

"Mmhmm," Dean murmured, kissing a trail up Sam's neck and sucking his earlobe between his lips. A moment later his tongue darted out to trace the shell of his brother's ear, breath coming out in a puff against Sam's ear. "Or you might lose it?" He chuckled, low and heavy, letting his fingers slip just under Sam's shirt to dance along his waist line as his mouth resumed its worship of Sam's ear.

Sam swallowed, his voice thick when he spoke, "I... I... yeah... that..." the tension slid off his face and he reached out to lean heavily against the window frame. The sound of Dean's laugh, the way it vibrated up through his body sent a sharp thrill of desire through Sam's body. His hips swung forward, breath leaving his lungs in a gasp, hand pressing against Dean's chest - pushing him back slightly. "D..Dean..."

Deciding he could either push the line and risk pissing off Sam or deal with yet another raging hard on, Dean stepped back. A happy Sam was worth being left high and dry. Dean figured his face had to look just as flushed as Sam's and he pulled in a deep breath. "Yeah... okay. Let's go. Just gotta..." he gestured behind him before turning and crossing the room to the bathroom, slipping inside and shutting the door quickly, falling against the hard surface to pull in a shaky breath.

Sam let his head rest against the cool glass of the window for a few moments, shifted his hips to readjust himself. He wanted Dean. That hadn't changed in all the years they'd been apart. But he could still count the minutes since he'd walked out on Jess. Walked out on the life he had created. He needed some time to figure out what he was supposed to be... if these feelings were right... or left over from some other life that didn't even belong to him anymore.

He moved to sit on the end of the bed, waiting for Dean, he really needed a drink.

It was dangerous ground he walked on, Dean thought as he flushed and moved to the sink. This was _nothing_ like before if only because Dean was now the one putting himself out there. At any moment in time Sam could decide that the past years had ruined them too much, too little too late and Dean would be alone again. He thought over those first few months without Sam... there was no way he'd survive a repeat performance.

Shaking his head to rid his mind of the thoughts, Dean pulled open the bathroom door and stepped out into the room. "Alright ready?"

"Ready." Sam beamed at his brother and pushed up off the bed, striding to the door and opening it. "Let's go celebrate."

Settling back in his seat, Dean scanned the patrons in the bar as was habit whenever he was some place new. Observe those around him, determine any possible threats. All those things so deeply engraved with him it took a moment for him to realize he was missing the most glaring of things. Sam sat across from him, drinking from his beer and it was only after the bottle had hit the table surface that he realized it was already empty. Dean looked down at his own beer that he'd yet to touch and arched his eyebrows silently. He wasn't going to lecture Sam but he also wasn't going to let him get drunk here. If it turned out Sam couldn't pull in this problem then there'd be other steps to take.

"Thank you," Dean looked up at the waitress with a warm grin as she set a plate of what was definitely a very greasy cheeseburger in front of him. Dean dropped his gaze and licked his lips as he reached out for the ketchup, ears prickling in awareness as he listened to Sam request another beer and a double shot. "Eat up," he said when the waitress walked toward the bar tender.

Sam pushed his burger around on his plate, then picked up some fries and dipped them in Dean's ketchup before stuffing them in his mouth. He turned so his knee was pressed against Dean's warm thigh. It felt good, and the slight dullness from the beer was starting to feel good too. "I was thinking, if I keep up with my law I can really help us out with stuff. You know - keep you out of trouble." He bumped his knee against Dean's thigh. "I've got a really good laptop and a satellite link from my phone for internet. I figure, I'll just get out of the law stuff all-together." He turned back to the bar and grabbed the beer as the bartender dropped it off, held it up to Dean, "to... hunting." Smiling, he drank from the bottle.

Dean lifted his bottle, sipping from it before setting it back down and tucking into his food. "So you really want to give it up?" He asked around a mouthful of burger, lifting his eyes to considering Sam. "Everything you went to school for? For hunting?"

Sam shrugged, "for you? Yeah." He looked at Dean out of the corner of his eye and then his eyes darted back down to his beer. "You gonna settle down somewhere and play house with a defence lawyer?" He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes, "doesn't sound like something you'd be happy with, Dean." Sam chugged down half his beer, he needed a few more to have _this_ conversation. "I don't mind giving up... whatever..."

"I never said I wouldn't give up hunting for you," Dean pointed out, using a fry to gesture at the man. "It's just... the only thing I know I guess. Never thought I'd have a reason to live a different type of life." He shrugged and watched Sam drink. "This is going to be an issue isn't it?" He picked up his burger and focused his attention on it as the words settled between them.

"Hunting?" Sam shook his head and put his bottle down, "no, we can do it if you want but if you really _don't_ \- I guess I can get a job at a small firm somewhere. We don't have to decide now do we?" Sam smiled.

"I think you know I'm not talking about hunting," Dean mumbled around his food and sat down his burger, looking up to meet Sam's eyes. "Your drinking. It's going to be an issue. I thought maybe it wasn't so bad but clearly that's not the case."

Sam's brow furrowed the smile still on his face, "my drinking? We've always drunk together, Dean. Don't make a mountain out of a molehill - I had a shitty day." Sam fiddled with the bottle in front of him, spinning it with nervous fingers.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I use to let you have a beer every now and then when you used your puppy dog eyes on me. That was never you getting completely shit faced. And you've already confessed to your drinking issues so don't try sweeping it under the rug. I'm not gonna be okay with you being drunk every day." He kept his gazed fixed on his brother, letting the man know how serious he was on the subject.

Eyes locked on the bottle, Sam tilted his head sideways, "Dean, I just wanted to celebrate. People drink when they celebrate. I'm not seventeen anymore so I drink like a big boy now. I didn't say I had drinking _issues_ , I said I drank to feel things. Now, I'm drinking to celebrate." He picked up the bottle slowly and took another swallow.

"And this is why you've already consumed twice the amount of alcohol I have, have yet to touch your food, and are already itching for your next drink." Dean's eyebrows drew together and he resumed eating, dropping Sam from his gaze. His heart churned unpleasantly. How was he supposed to make Sam see the truth? Dean had no experience with these types of things.

Blinking a few times Sam spoke, "we competing over drinking speed now, Dean? I didn't know this was a race." Sam picked up his burger and took a bite. "There," he mumbled, mouth full, "happy?"

"Whatever," Dean didn't look up, just continued chewing on his food. If he remembered correctly denial was a pretty common thing for people in Sam's situation. Trick was how to get him to admit in the end that there was something to be concerned about. Dean fell silent as he thought over things, taking steady bites of his burger until there was nothing left.

"You mad at me?" Sam's shifted closer to Dean so he could slip his hand over his brother's thigh discreetly. His fingers curled over the firm muscle. He looked at Dean from under his bangs.

Looking up at Sam with soft eyes he shook his head. "No Sam, not mad. Just worried," he shrugged and began work on his fries. "Sam... you know as a hunter I'm gonna watch your back, I'm gonna need you to watch mine as well. Can't do that hung over or drunk."

"Do we have to talk about this now?" Sam leaned closer, fingers sliding up the inside of Dean's thigh. "I don't drink during the day - or - I won't if we're on a hunt."

Dean shifted his leg under Sam's touch and frowned. "Stop, not here..." he breathed the words and scooted slightly away. "You don't want to talk about it? Then you just better prove to me I'm wrong." He pulled from his beer and set it down, noting that half the bottle was still left.

"Not here?" There was a slight smirk on Sam's face, "never pegged you as a shy guy, Dean." But he pulled his hand back, his smile just a cover for the twinge of rejection he felt. His instinct was to reach for his beer but he picked up some fries instead.

"Not shy," Dean shook his head and sighed. "It's just... I've spent a lot of years hooking up with people in bars not too unlike these... seems cheap to let things between us happen here." He shrugged and pushed his plate back. "So what do you want to do after this? See a movie? Uh... walk somewhere?"

Sam was getting slightly irritated. "You in a rush to get somewhere?" He picked up his bottle and drained the rest of it. "I haven't even finished my dinner."

"Jesus Sam chill," Dean shook his head again and picked up his bottle, finishing it off and setting it back down. "Can't you tell a subject change when you hear it? Talking to you is like walking through a minefield sometimes."

Sam turned back to the bar. "Dean, you know that I left my wife this afternoon right? And gave up my car and my home? Just decided to quit my job? 'Cause in case you missed any of that - it's made me just a little sensitive tonight. I'm sorry if that's bothering you." Sam nodded to the bartender and held up his empty beer bottle. "I just wanted to have a good time and so far, I've gotten a lecture about not eating properly, drinking too much and told not to touch you. I can't wait for _after_ dinner." Sam looked away all too aware that Dean studied his face all the time trying to see what he was thinking and feeling. Let him figure it out on his own.

"Seeing as I've yet to learn how to read minds, and all you've said regarding things that have happened today is that you're okay, you're gonna have to excuse me for discussing something I see as important." Dean said calmly in return, jaw growing firm as the waitress brought him another beer, setting it down by Sam. He bit back the sarcastic urge to add sarcastically 'way to prove me right.' "So forget I said anything, I'll just sit back and let you feel me up even though I'm fairly certain I explained that reasoning."

Sam licked his lips and put his beer down gently. "Wow - it took us... what..." he looked at his watch, "two hours to get in a fight?" Sam couldn't look at his brother, "and for the record, I wasn't trying to _feel you up_ \- that makes it sound kind of cheap."

Dean looked at his brother and pursed his lips. "I don't know how to act around you. I feel like at any moment you're just gonna snap and be gone. Being in some bar and watching you drink when I'm already concerned about that doesn't make it any easier." He dipped his finger into a drop of condensation on the table and smeared the liquid around.

"Fair enough, I don't know what I'm gonna do." Sam picked up his beer, hesitated, and then put it back down on the bar. "I've lived... one way for eight years - it's... it's the way I am, Dean." He turned on his stool to face his brother. "What if _you_ can't accept _me_? What if I can't change?" His eyes were sad.

"I've told you I'm not going anywhere and I'm not." Dean stated simply and looked up at Sam. "I might not always be happy with the way things are but you're stuck with me now unless you walk away. I... I can't let you go again. I can't live through that hell again. Or I won't live through it." Dean sighed and reached out over the table to lay his hand on Sam's arm, squeezing softly.

"Tell me about it?" Sam didn't move his arm, his fingers simply pressed down flat against the bar.

With a soft sigh Dean pulled his hand back and stared down at the table, thinking back to the blurry haze that was the days, weeks, months, following Sam's departure. "I went on a hunt with dad, not long after... messed up a little but mostly he said I was too sad to be around. I was drunk most of the time anyway. So we went our separate ways and I spent all the money I'd saved up on alcohol and this cheap motel room. Think I spent a solid three weeks drunk or passed out. I actually don't remember how long it was, just that shaving afterward was a real bitch." He chuckled humourlessly and continued. "Finally snapped a little out of it when I started throwing up blood. That didn't change things though. I still drank, still fucked around, just tamed it to a level that I could hunt and get money too."

Clearing his throat Dean reached out for his beer, taking a deep swig before glancing up at Sam then back down. "I drove out to see you a few times while you were still at Stanford. Each time I was going to say something but I didn't, couldn't. Then what would have been your senior year, I went on a hunt. It was your birthday, and I was completely fucked up, had drunk way too much. The demon totally kicked my ass, broke my arm and a couple ribs, some head damage. I was in the hospital for awhile trying to recover. That was the time I decided I was just going to go and tell you I couldn't be without you, even if it meant we were just brothers. Only when I got there I saw you kissing Jess and you looked so happy and I knew I was being selfish, again, so I just watched then left." He shrugged and pointedly refused to meet his brother's steady gaze. "That's the condensed version."

Sam's heart ached. "I... I had no idea." He tilted his head, "I mean other than what you threw at me the other day in the hallway. I'm really sorry, Dean." He wanted to touch Dean, run his fingers down his cheek, curl his fingers over Dean's arm but his brother obviously wasn't keen on them being too affectionate in public. "Do you wish... that you'd made different decisions?"

"About you? Yeah," Dean nodded. "And now when I look back on all that I wish I didn't say some of the things I did. I wish I could remember more of those years than I do. It's a little terrifying to realize there are whole months worth of time I have absolutely no memory of." He wet his lips and reached a hand out to link with Sam's, squeezing softly. When I found out you got married..." he shook his head quickly and forced a chuckle. "Nah, you don't want to hear that. Trust me, it's for the best."

Sam nodded a slight smile on his face. "I can't make any promises, Dean." They both knew what he was talking about. "Right now, I'm so scared. I could quite happily sit here and drink until I can't feel a thing. And - there's part of me that thinks that's a perfectly normal reaction to what I've been through today. Maybe, _maybe_ , somewhere inside I get what you're saying... about the drinking I mean. But - you... we haven't been around each other so maybe you just don't know enough to judge, yeah?"

It stung more than Dean let himself admit, but mostly because it was true. Here he was, he'd hardly changed at all over the past eight years, was virtually the same Dean, a little older, a little more broken but still the man he was when Sam left. But Sam... he'd had a whole different life that didn't include him, would never include him. Nodding he squeezed his brother's hand a last time before pulling his hand back. "Yeah Sam, you're right." He wet his lips and sat back in his seat. More than anything Dean wanted to hear Sam promise he wasn't going anywhere but he knew it wasn't something Sam could offer now. Lifting his shoulders with a deep breath he looked around the bar before looking back at Sam. "Want anything else? I think I'm gonna go pay this if you're done ordering."

Sighing, Sam nodded, "I'm done. Listen, can we just go back to the room?"

"Sure," Dean nodded and pushed up, heading for the bar to pay their tab.

Despite their conversation at the bar, Sam had been looking forward to spending some time alone with Dean. He shrugged out of his jacket and tried to put off his urge to open one of the remaining beers from the day before. Throwing his jacket over the chair he kicked off his boots and moved to the far bed, flopping down on it. He was star-fished on the bed like he used to do when he was a kid. "Do you think I made the right decision today? With Jess I mean?" He was speaking to the ceiling, eyes watching the fan spinning over head.

"Yes," Dean said without hesitation, pulling off his leather jacket it and laying it over Sam's. "And not just because I want you for my own." He chuckled softly as he kicked off his shoes. He felt a little raw after that conversation at the bar and he moved to sit on the edge of the bed Sam was on, keeping his distance but only by a foot or so. "Do you think you did?"

"I guess so, I feel a bit, actually, I feel really guilty. I guess - I think I told you before that I feel like if I'd been able to be different for her, she would have been different. She kind of got broken goods." He rolled over onto his side facing Dean. "Do you think I was always a little... fucked?" He was picking at the quilt on the bed.

Dean bit his bottom lip and shook his head. "I may be a little biased but no, I don't think so. I mean, excluding the part where our entire childhood was a little fucked. You had circumstances that altered you, doesn't mean you are fucked as a whole." He shifted so he could lie on his side facing Sam, reaching out to trace his fingers along the side of Sam's cheek. "Do you wish things had played out differently?"

The way Sam figured it - there was no _good_ way to answer that question. He shied away from Dean's fingers unintentionally, rubbing his eyes. "There's no point in making wishes like that. Do I wish that I was more normal? Yeah, of course I do." Sam looked into Dean's eyes, "you gonna freak out if I have another beer?"

"Do whatever you want," Dean waved his hand, flopping back onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. This was all more exhausting than he'd imagined, but then in his fantasies it had all been so easy. Sam would just instantly want him as much as Dean wanted Sam and they would just be _okay_. It was really too bad life wasn't more like fantasies. Sighing softly he pulled his arm above his eyes, shifting of the mattress so he was more comfortable.

Sam moved over to the small bar fridge and opened the door. He grabbed a beer and kicked the door shut, grabbed a chair and spun it around to he could straddle it. "Let's play a game, Dean. Like twenty questions. Truth or Dare!" Sam seemed pleased with himself. "We used to play truth or dare when we were kids - brave enough?" He took a sip of beer and put the bottle on the chair between his legs.

Dean chuckled and nodded. "Sure but I swear to god if you dare me to drink some shit concoction you've made from liquids you can find like you did that one time I'm making you drink toilet water." He kept his arm over his eyes but a smile pulled up his lips. "You go first. I choose truth."

Laughing softly, Sam thought for a few moments, "okay, what’s your favourite memory of us when we were kids?"

"Hmm," Dean let memories wash over him, smiling with force at each one. "Hard to choose just one but probably your sixteenth birthday. Remember how I got you that first edition to that book... what was it? Man it took me forever to find it and I felt really stupid right before I gave it to you but your face lit up so bright. You acted like it was a brand new car, which I know is what you really wanted but..." he shrugged and rubbed his arm along his eyes. That day meant a lot to him on more levels then Sam knew but he didn't bring them up. "What was that book? Sherlock Holmes or something right?"

Sam shot Dean a surprised look. "You remember that?" Sam had been thrilled with the book, he loved any books when he was a kid but Sherlock Holmes had been a favourite and to get a first edition at his age was really cool. "Man, I can't believe you remember that." He chuckled softly, "your turn... truth."

"Of course I remember, I spent months searching for that damn book." Dean chuckled in return and fell into silence as he considered his question. "Can I ask what your favourite memory of when we were kids was or are you gonna go off about how it's cheating or something to repeat the same question?"

"It's cheating to repeat questions but I'll let it go this time, I'm answering because that's easy. My favourite memory is what you said after the first time you kissed me..." he blushed and looked down.

Finally pulling his arm down, Dean pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked at Sam. "Didn't I just say 'shit'? Or... did my mouth say something out loud that I'd only thought?"

Laughing, Sam threw his head back, "you did, you totally said _shit_ dude. That's how I knew it must have felt good- usually you know exactly what to say! I mean, okay, at the time it wasn't all that funny but come on - what a thing to say when you kiss someone!" He chuckled for a while, flashing his dimples at Dean, "anyway, your turn again."

Dean blinked a few times and laughed softly, "Well when you've wanted something for awhile..." he shrugged and laid his hand on his thigh. "Alright dare. Give me your best."

"I dare you, Dean Winchester, to have another beer and actually have some _fun_ with me, you know, loosen up." Sam grinned.

Dean rolled his eyes, "Lame dare. I'm plenty loose." He pushed off the bed regardless and moved to the fridge, pulling out a beer and heading back to the bed. He made a point of twisting off the cap and taking a drink before setting it on the nightstand. "Well? Truth or dare?"

Sam pressed his lips together feigning intense concentration. "Okay - let's see how good _you_ are at this... I'll take a dare." Sam reached down and grabbed his beer taking a sip.

"Hmm..." Dean picked at the quilt on the bed for a few minutes as he considered what would be a good dare. He felt odd, like they were just two kids waiting in some cheap and crappy motel room for their dad to come back so they could head on to the next big thing. "Alright, I dare you to..." he wet his lips and watched his hand for a moment before forcing his eyes up to Sam. "Kiss me like the last eight years never happened." He swallowed thickly and held his eyes steady.

Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth looking down to the side for a few moments. "Okay," he replied softly. He moved slowly, setting his beer on the table beside him, sliding back off the chair and moving over to join his brother on the bed. He cleared his throat, nervous, suddenly a little shy and turned quickly to move up onto the bed and straddle Dean's thighs. Shifting closer, breath ghosting over Dean's lips, Sam reached up and cupped the back of his brother's neck and yanked him into a kiss. Sam's mouth was open, wet, and slanted over Dean's, tongue pushing forcefully past his brother's lips. His tongue swept through Dean's mouth, tasting the beer, and the familiar flavour of his brother. He couldn't help pressing his body close, his free hand moving automatically to Dean's hip, fingers digging painfully hard into the flesh there. Biting down on Dean's bottom lip, Sam pulled back, let it go and licked away the pain. He slipped off Dean's lap quickly and moved back to his chair, face flushed, pupils lust-blown.

A harsh shiver shot through Dean and his eyes stayed closed a moment longer before he slowly dragged them up, tongue chasing the flavour of his brother and beer across his lips. He was almost instantly hard and rubbed his palm on his thigh. "Shit." He breathed, blinked, then turned to Sam and grinned. A low chuckle fell from his lips and he shook his head. "Uh alright... what were we doing? Oh right um... I choose truth." His brain needed a moment to calm after that and he wasn't certain he could handle a dare if Sam should come up with something along the same lines.

Sam reached down to pick up his beer, tugging at the crotch of his jeans as discreetly as he could. "I... uh... truth...," he swallowed and looked up at Dean. He always loved the way that Dean's face looked when that flush was on his cheeks, under his freckles. He blinked and shook his head, dragging his eyes away. "The night I left..." Sam picked at the label on his beer bottle, "if I had come back that night, would we have...? What would have happened?" He worried his bottom lip with his teeth, waiting.

Dean had never allowed himself to think of the possibility of Sam returning but now he did. It only took a moment for his brain to supply what he knew would have been his only reaction. "I wouldn't have let you leave... we probably... I wanted... you know, we were sort of heading for... sex." Dean's flush grew richer and he reached out to drink from his nearly forgotten beer on the night stand. "I probably would have fucked you." His eyes widened after he said it and he darted a look at Sam before dropping his eyes. "And never let you go."

The strangest sensation washed over Sam, like a cross between fear and want. His fingers curled tightly over the back of the chair, knuckles whitening, and his mouth fell open. He shifted on the chair, his cock suddenly so hard he couldn't move without aching. "Okay," he said softly reaching back blindly for his beer.

Dean tilted his head slightly, studying Sam. "Is that what you would have wanted? Do you think you would have let me fuck you?" He slid a little down the bed, bringing himself closer to Sam without standing up.

"It's uh... not your turn," Sam took a sip of beer, "but... yeah, I would have let you do anything you wanted." Sam ran his thumb along his bottom lip and looked down at the carpet.

"Actually it is my turn, you just didn't say truth or dare," Dean pointed out, slight smirk on his lips.

"T..Truth, I think." Sam's tongue darted out to wet his lips.

Considering his options, Dean shifted back down the beer to retrieve his beer. "Were you ever in love with me?" He asked softly, staring into the mostly full bottle. "You know, more than just the brother love thing. More the completely inappropriate, shouldn't be feeling this way love."

Sam's lashes drifted closed, a muscle twitching in his cheek. "Yeah, I... yeah." He opened his eyes again and met Dean's gaze.

Dean's heart quickened. He wanted to ask about now, how Sam felt now, but he didn't. "Okay... I choose truth again."

As he lifted his beer bottle to his lips, Sam's hand was shaking. "Did you..." he looked into Dean's eyes, "ever hate me?"

"No," Dean said without hesitation. "I hated myself loads but never you." He swallowed, looking down before looking up at Sam expectantly.

"Truth," Sam said softly.

Taking a deep breath, Dean asked with the exhale, "Do you think you'll ever be in love with me again?"

"I don't want to play anymore." Sam pushed up from the chair and walked over to the bed closest to the window. His heart was bouncing off his ribs as he put his beer down on the night table and kicked back on the bed. "You want to watch some TV or something?"

Dean frowned at stared at Sam. "You can't do that. You can't just start this whole thing and not..." Dean pulled in a deep breath, trying to right things in his mind before continuing. "You asked me tough things too and I answered."

"Maybe you don't want to know the answer." Sam ran his hand down over his face.

Of course this only made Dean want to know the answer more and he ignored the twisting of his gut. "I do want to know. Please... I can handle it." He stared at Sam, willing him with his mind to confess to whatever thing he didn't want to admit.

"I loved you the first time you kissed me, I loved you when I punched you, hell, that's probably _why_ I punched you. When you told me to leave and when I was waiting for you to call me all those months I loved you. For every minute of every day for the last eight years I was in love with you, Dean." Sam leaned back against the headboard, his face a mixture of fear and relief.

It took a minute for the words to straighten themselves out in his mind and then Dean was clambering across the bed, throwing his leg over Sam's hips and cupping his face on either side. He dragged their lips together soft and gently, just a slight amount of friction before he pulled back and rested his forehead against Sam's. "Sammy..." he breathed, trailing his fingers down the sides of Sam's face. His heart was racing faster than he could ever remember it moving and he felt the faint moisture of tears along his cheeks, surprising himself.

Sam's breath slowly evened out when he realized Dean wasn't going to bolt from the room. He pulled back a little from Dean, noticed the tears and wiped them away with the back of his fingers. "I'm sorry," he whispered. He wasn't sorry for finally telling Dean; hell now that he no longer felt like he was going to have a heart attack - it felt good that Dean knew. Sam just couldn't figure out how to put into words that he was sorry for both of them, for the time they'd lost, for the moments they'd never get back. Sorry that maybe - even now they couldn't fix this, that some things might be _too_ broken.

"Why? I don't think you need to say sorry," Dean shook his head and shifted his weight against Sam's legs. "Do you know... the first time... the first time I realized I loved you more than my kid brother was your sixteenth birthday, when I gave you that book." He sighed shakily, and locked eyes with Sam. "You threw your arms around me and hugged me so tight... and all I could smell was you, all I could feel was you. Then you pulled back and said it was the best gift ever and I... I was so _proud_ that I could make you that happy, I always wanted to make you that happy. It took me awhile to stop freaking out every time you would appear in my thoughts when I..." he gestured vaguely and chocked on a laugh. "Well anyway, I never planned on acting on it. Made it almost two years... and... I've never stopped, loving you. Never once. Sammy... I will always be this pathetically, madly, in love with you."

Sam's hand drifted up to Dean's chest, holding him where he was. "I need..." Sam tore his eyes away from Dean's. "I know that you're happy, I get that, I really do." He cleared his throat, shifting under his brother's weight, torn between wanting to grab onto him and push him away. "The thing is..." Sam squeezed his eyes shut and growled up a frustrated noise. His fingers curled into Dean's chest, "Dean, I... hate myself so much right now... I don't even know how to explain it. I fucked things up with you, I ruined my life, I ruined Jess' life and now," his voice broke. He looked up and met Dean's gaze shrugging and shaking his head as he bit down on his bottom lip.

Dean deflated, smile falling from his face as he considered his brother. This wasn't how he thought Sam would react when he finally told him just how long he'd be in love with him, which was only further proof that he didn't know Sam at all. "And now?" He asked softly, climbing off Sam to give him some space and dropping onto the mattress beside him, facing him.

Sam reached out and grabbed Dean's hand, twining their fingers together. "Now... I gotta... put myself back together before I have anything to give you. I want... to be... _worth_ you loving me all that time." Sam tilted his head and looked away, jaw twitching.

"But you're always worth that, no matter what state you're in." Dean squeezed Sam's hand. "I'm not going to push you into anything Sam but... no matter what you might think about yourself, it doesn't change how I feel okay?"

"I'm not... I didn't mean... Dean, I need to understand how this happened to me. How did I end up the kind of guy who has a wife that... did... what did I do? You know?" He wasn't sure when he had started crying. "It's so much - I need time. I... know how you feel - and _fuck_ if you get nothing else out of this I _need_ you to believe that I know how you feel. I haven't lied to you about how I feel. I love you, Dean, right now I love you - it's just that I'm so _fucked_ up inside..." he puffed out his cheek as he let out a long breath of air. Hand shaking in Dean's grasp.

"Okay Sam," Dean nodded, reaching up with the hand not in Sam's grasp and swiping at his cheek to brush off the liquid. Dean's insides ached for Sam, and he wished there was something he could do to make it all better but he knew there wasn't. Forcing down the spiral of unwanted feelings - rejection, sadness, loneliness - Dean squeezed Sam's hand a finally time before climbing off the bed. "I'll give you however much time you need." He said softly and worked on the fastens on his jeans. "I'm beat. This whole night... well... I think I just need some sleep." He hesitated for a moment between the two beds, kicking off his jeans. "Are you going to go to sleep now?"

"Could you... will you sleep here?" Sam felt like that kid again; he shook off the feelings that were racing around his mind. "Please? I mean, if you can..." he shrugged, "want to - whatever, fuck please?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded and slid into the bed. "I can... hold you?" He asked softly, feeling shyer than he ever had. Hell, when did he get _shy_?

Sam pushed up off the bed quickly, tugged of his shirt and wriggled out of his jeans, then flipped off the lights before slidding back into bed, cool covers, and Dean's warm body. He didn't give Dean much of a choice, scooted up against Dean's chest and nuzzled into his neck as he slipped long arms around his brother's body.

With a soft smile Dean pressed a kiss to the top of Sam's head. Everything else seemed so fucked up Dean had no idea how they were going to put it all together but at least he had this. And it was more than he'd had a week ago so that was really saying something. He murmured a soft goodnight, reaching over without disturbing Sam to turn off the light there before tightening his arms around Sam and closing his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

It wasn’t that hard to find a simple hunt that Dean knew Sam could handle without a doubt. Just a haunting in an abandon building that had scared a variety of people over the years. They made the trip in a day and by the following one were full into investigation mode. Dean actually enjoyed it more than he had in years, having Sam do the nitty gritty research work so Dean could focus on the most physical aspect. It felt exactly how it should feel and even though things were still pretty tense between them, Dean was relieved to know they could at least have a working relationship without an issue. Plus falling asleep with Sam in his arms every night was a major perk and Dean could feel those eight years of hard, cold, bitterness slowly melting off him. Everything seemed to take on a different shade, shone a little brighter, and he felt relaxed knowing that just having his brother back as his friend made him feel that way. Just in case they never crossed that next step.

There were subtle differences in Sam's life, some of them he shared with Dean, some he kept to himself. Every night, when Sam collapsed into bed beside his brother he felt a little less dead inside, a little less broken. Since the night Sam tried to explain how he felt he hasn't talked about the things he felt the most intensely. It was all still so confusing and he didn’t see the point in dragging Dean through it. But, Dean, and the way he looked at Sam - the way his eyes told Sam he was the only person who mattered - that was making things change. So - Sam healed at night in the arms of his brother and hunted by Dean's side during the day. With each day Sam's smile came easier, his pain lessened and he started to believe that maybe he could get out the other side of all the shit.

The next hunt they went on turned out to be a little more difficult and Dean nearly got wacked up the side of the head with a piece of gravestone at some point. Thankfully Sam was there to block the cement chunk with his shovel and there was a bit of a wrestling match with the undead creature before Sam managed the incantation and it finally died... for good. The adrenaline speeding through him was a nice rush and Dean had insisted on stopping by a diner even though they were both covered in dirt and sweating. It was the first time there was no real underlying tension - or if it was there it was so buried neither man noticed. Dean mimicked Sam's outrageous swing of his shovel and Sam parodied Dean's panicked expression and they'd both laughed so hard the other patrons were actually getting up to put distance between them. Which only made them laugh harder and as they finally began to calm Dean watched Sam's cheerful smile and for the first time really allowed himself to believe that they were going to be okay.

Resigning his associate status at the firm was complicated. Sam spent hours pouring over paperwork, forms, typing emails and letters. They'd been hunting together for weeks when he finally receiving an email releasing him from all his remaining obligations to the firm. It was the strangest sensation - like putting a period at the end of a sentence and the sigh of relief that came out of his body was huge. Sam had snapped the screen on his laptop down and walked over to Dean, arms wrapping around his waist as he pressed up against his brother's side. Dean didn't ask questions anymore, just held him and waited. Sam spoke when he knew what to say. They put the money from the sale of Sam's company shares into a savings account, except for the money Sam used to buy Dean a new knife. It was a milestone. Sam wasn't a lawyer anymore. He kissed Dean that night, so hard he could taste blood, he wanted more and didn't ask.

For the most part Dean didn't have any complaints about the way things were falling into step with Sam. Except the near constant state of arousal that seemed to make itself present at the most unhelpful times. All it took was one look from Sam, one brush of his hand along Dean's hip as he passed. He knew Sam wasn't doing it to drive him crazy but well, when you'd wanted someone for so long and never had the chance to have them, it was a risk you were taking being in their presence. And whenever Sam kissed him, be it brief and just a brush of their lips or lingering with the gentlest slide of tongue, Dean went nearly out of his mind resisting the urge to shove the man down and take _more_. He had promised Sam time though and he was sticking to it. As the weeks slowly shifted together, Dean thought it was going to completely make him lose his mind but he knew Sam was worth it, so he stuck to his guns and allowed Sam those little kisses - or the rougher ones - and got very familiar with the quick jack off in the bathroom.

Sam would spend days at a time studying his brother. He never wanted to forget the way Dean eyes crinkled when he smiled, the smell of his hair late at night when Sam held him close, the gentle curve of his hip when he stood - shotgun slung over his shoulder. Sam fell in love with his brother all over again, and still didn't believe that he was worth loving back. They didn't bother getting two beds in motel rooms anymore, Sam had smiled for hours the first time Dean has asked for one bed and simply said _you're keeping me_ when Dean had asked why he was grinning like an idiot. They argued sometimes, generally about what the best course of action was regarding a job; every-so-often it was about Sam's silence, the way he couldn't always talk about what was going on in his mind. Even if Dean was still mad when they finally gave up and went to bed he would still throw the covers back and hold his arms open for Sam.

Above every little thing that was changing, the _best_ thing was waking with Sam in his arms. Dean had never realized how much he had missed that one little thing, even from the time when he stopped letting Sam share a bed with him when they were kids. Of course it felt much different from that time. Sam was all strong curves and broad muscles. Hell sometimes Dean even found himself feeling _small_ compared to Sam. His brother had been taller than him when he'd left for college but he'd also been skin and bones. Now he was a good four inches taller, rippled muscle that pulled together and stretched out as he moved. When Dean would watch their play across his brother's back he always had to turn and subtly adjust his pants. It was far too easy to imagine what those muscles would look like in other positions. At some point having Sam with him stopped being a new thing, though Dean lost track of when that happened, and instead was just the normal thing. Around that time Dean realized that this was it for him. Sam was it for him - though he'd always known that - and really, Dean was alright with that. Whatever this ended up being, for the first time in his life he felt he made something of himself and it was cheesy and lame and Sam made fun of his goofy smile for days but it was worth it.

He wasn't aware of exactly when it had happened but Sam realized, slowly, that he had come to understand why Dean had pushed him to go to school. Maybe it was watching Dean hunt again, and seeing so clearly how different his life would have been had he not gone to Stanford. It could have been the way he woke up in the morning, cock hard, balls aching and staring down at his brother's sleeping face; wanting him and knowing that at seventeen he had no idea what he was asking Dean to give him. In part - it was just the time Sam had with his thoughts, the way he watched Dean protect him in subtle ways, keeping himself _between_ Sam and whatever threat might be there. After eight years of not-getting it Sam suddenly got it. He didn't ever manage to explain how he figured it out - Dean just smiled and shrugged when they talked about it. He supposed it didn't matter. Dean seemed happier.

Dean had never really expected Sam to see things from his point of view but finding out he did was oddly refreshing. Well he didn't see everything from his point of view that was for sure - especially concerning himself - but in regards to their time before. It was like taking another step down this path toward something bigger and better and Dean found himself gazing occasionally at the silver ring on his finger and thinking of Shadrach. Despite all the research Sam - and Dean on random occasions - had done on the subject, they'd been unable to find any lore regarding Cain and Abel and some creatures of fate. They had reached the conclusion though that whatever Shadrach was, it certainly wasn't evil and even if they never understood the _how_ they knew the _why_ which was enough. Dean knew they'd keep it to themselves for the rest of their lives anyway, explaining how a seven year old - or whatever - little girl played matchmaker to fix the broken relationship of two brothers was too much even for Dean. And he'd had to explain some weird things to people over the years. Whenever Dean mentioned the little girl to Sam - which wasn't that often, though she came up in his thoughts quite a bit - he enjoyed the easy smile on Sam's lips, the soft laughter as they recalled some of her stranger topic points. Dean even explained the salad and cheeseburger analogy at some point and Sam had laughed for a good half hour. Dean never got tired of hearing Sam laugh, so full and deep, flowing over him like a blanket of warmth.

General Delivery at the post office in a fancy downtown neighbourhood in Tulsa Oklahoma, five minutes in a line and Sam found himself standing outside in the sun blinking at Dean through the open window of the Impala. He was clutching finalized divorce papers in his hand; it meant several things. It meant that Jess now owned almost everything that had belonged to them - Sam was okay with that. It also meant that another part of his life was finished. There were surprisingly few hard feelings between Sam and Jess. She's moved on - was already living with the man she'd been sleeping with during their marriage. Still, the papers felt heavy in Sam's hands and rather than trying to speak he just tossed them through the window onto the front seat of the car so Dean could read it for himself. Sam simply leaned back against the car, face turned up into the late afternoon sun and waited until her heard Dean's door open and close behind him, his footsteps crunching on the gravel and the weight of his brother's body leaning on him.

Dean nudged him slightly and turned his head up to stare into the sky with him. "So. It's done." He said softly and let his hand drop to his side, brushing against Sam's. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Sam smiled, the smell of Dean's sun-warmed hair barely there on the breeze. "I'm good. It's good. That was the last thing I guess."

"It is," Dean nodded. He didn't bother asking what that meant, knew that Sam would fill him in when the time was right. Over the past couple of months he'd grown accustomed to letting Sam come to him with things like this, things that might change or alter them in some way. It was actually easier, this way his hopes were never raised before Sam put the idea there. "Wanna get a beer? Some dinner?"

Sam took a deep breath, "skip the beer... order food in to the room?"

Glancing at him out of the corner of his eyes Dean nodded and pushed back from the car. "Yeah, alright." He smiled softly, letting his hand graze against the back of Sam's once more before he headed for the driver's seat once more.

Dean was oddly nervous though he couldn't put his finger on exactly _why_. Maybe it had something to do with the way Sam was twisting his hands together, or the way his eyes seemed to continually slide toward Dean as they drove back to the motel. Dean could practically _feel_ the weight of his gaze and he wondered what that meant. When they pulled up to the motel Sam nearly leaped from the car and Dean's eyes widened slightly as he followed him. Sometimes not asking Sam about certain things was easier said than done and Dean traced the curve of strong lines curiously as he unlocked the door and pushed it open.

Sam's mind had been working over-time. Since the moment he held those divorce papers, his thoughts had kicked into gear. It wasn't that Jess was now _out_ of his life, _hell_ they'd not been really _in_ each other's lives for years. It just seemed like it was time for Sam to move on, like the last of his road blocks was gone. He found himself stealing glances at his brother. Dean's face was hard to read but he'd been more than patient. It just seemed like it was time to make some sort of decision, choose a direction.

As Dean closed the door behind them Sam moved quickly to the small fridge and opened the door. Reaching in, he grabbed the two beers that were left. Dean had held his tongue for a long time about Sam's drinking, but Sam could read the lines off his face, the stiffening of his brother's shoulders. Offering Dean the slightest smile, Sam moved to the bathroom - shoved the door open with his hip and popped the tops off the bottles. Watching the beer foam and whirl as he poured it down the sink was strangely satisfying. He left the empty bottles on the counter and leaned against the door frame, shrugging a shoulder.

That wasn't really what Dean was expecting to have happen and he stepped out of his shoes, pulled off his coat and set his keys on the table before crossing the room to his brother. "Okay," he said with a soft nod, leaning against the wall beside the door frame and looking up slightly to meet his brother's eyes. "Always keeping me on my toes huh?" He smiled softly and rubbed his upper arm.

"I just... just for a while. I mean, you can drink - but I..." Sam tilted his head to the side a little, glancing across at his brother. "I think I want to try _not_ drinking for a while - just to see..." His eyes drifted away as he moved slowly leaning against the wall in front of Dean. A smile curved onto Sam's mouth, "okay?"

"Yeah, okay," Dean nodded, knowing he wouldn't drink either just to make it easier on Sam. His eyes traveled down the skin of Sam's neck, watching the flesh disappear beneath fabric. His brother was close enough he could smell him, musky with just the slightest hint of sweat, the slightest hint of something uniquely Sam. Dean caught his lip around a smile and watched the small slide of his brother forward.

Leaning forward slightly, Sam reached up and cupped Dean's cheek with his hand, letting his hand slide back, fingers threading through his brother's hair. Smiling, he shoved Dean back with his other hand so that he was pressed against the wall and tugged his brother's jacket down over his arms; large hands slid the sleeves down over Dean's broad shoulders. Sam smiled, licking his lips, paused then tucked his fingers under the hem of his brother's t-shirt. His smile grew when Dean sucked in a breath, his abs rippling under Sam's fingers. Sam pulled Dean's t-shirt up and over his head and tossed it over his shoulder. He fell forward, putting a hand on either side of Dean's neck, leaning against the wall. "You... okay with... this?"

That was probably one of the biggest understatements he'd ever heard. Here, leaning against the wall with Sam's hands on either side of his head, Dean felt completely consumed by his brother. Which was saying a lot considering they weren't really touching at all. Dean's breath kicked up a few notches and he nodded slowly, bringing up a hand to trace along the outside of Sam's arm, over his shoulder and down his side. Dean kept his eyes locked with Sam's as he curled his fingers around the shirt, let go and dragged his hands back up the flat planes of the man's chest. His heart skipped a beat as Sam allowed him to push off the jacket, pull up the shirt, and when they were both shirtless, Dean sucked in a deep breath to keep from throwing Sam down on the bed. This was _it_ and he knew it, wanted it so bad it was going to be a real test of his patience to take it slow. "Sammy..." he breathed, sliding his hand along the back of his brother's neck and bringing him forward.

Sam let his arms go, falling into his brother's body completely, mouth crashing into Dean's. He poured all the crazy feelings in his body into the kiss, it was urgent, wet, hot - _God_ kissing his brother had always been hot. Sam's hands moved down his brother's chest, sliding over the scars he found there, blunt nails digging into the almost-feverish skin. His tongue pushed, teased and licked its way into Dean's mouth; the feel of Dean's trembling body against his was amazing. Sam bent his knee, sliding his thigh between Dean's legs, nudging his thigh up against his brother's crotch, holding him up.

With a soft groan Dean lurched up into the kiss, fingers spreading to curl into Sam's hair while his free hand pressed firm and flat into his back. It was impossible to resist the urge to rock against Sam's thigh, the friction felt so good after the near constant burning need in him. But if he kept this up he was likely to dry hump himself to orgasm and that wasn't how Dean wanted this to go. Pulling his lips back from Sam's, Dean gasped softly and pushed forward, hands circling down to Sam's waist band. He dipped his head to the curve of Sam's neck and sucked flesh between his lips and teeth, fingers dancing along his brother's waist band.

Dean's lips sent shocks of heat through Sam's body, his hips swinging slowly, moving with Dean's hands. He hooked his fingers through Den's belt loops and stumbled back a step, tugging his brother with him; sucking in a deep breath when Dean's chest collided with his. "Can we..." Sam stepped back a few more times until he calves bumped against the bed.

"Yes," Dean nodded and stepped toward Sam, watching him drop down on the bed and crawling over his body. He considered undressing them right away but the sooner they were naked the faster this would be over and even if Dean was certain there would be _many_ repeat performances, this first time was special. Once more he dropped his head to Sam's neck, dragging his tongue over the salty flesh and pulling in the faint taste of Sam. His fingers drifted along the dip of Sam's stomach, smoothing out along his chest, curling around a nipple and pinching roughly. Every little noise out of Sam's mouth was intoxicating and Dean twisted the hard nub softly just to pull out more.

Head snapping back into the mattress, Sam let out a low moan. He couldn't help sliding his palms down over his brother's denim-clad ass. It's been _too_ long and Sam was aching to touch Dean everywhere, all at once. Sam's back arched up, pushing his tender nipple into his brother's touch. He's already gasping for breath, trying to suck air in through the vice clamped around his chest. "Dean..." he whispered, fingers curling _hard_ into his brother's ass, leg hooking over Dean's. Those lips on his neck, just being this close to Dean's flesh; a shudder ran down the length of Sam's spine, he was so hard, _wanted_ so much and he already felt like he was drowning in sensation.

"Jesus," Dean sucked in the word sharply, latching down onto Sam's flesh with a hard bite. There was a pretty good chance he could come from his brother's noises and reactions alone. He slithered down Sam's body, even with the pressing of Sam's leg. A slow smirk curved up his lips as his mouth zeroed in on Sam's coppery nipple, sucking the sensitive flesh between his lips and just slightly grazing across the skin. Sam arched deliciously beneath him and the heat that soared through Dean was almost too much. Sam was so responsive, Dean had never felt something so amazing. He continued kissing down Sam's body, mouthing over the tight muscles, pulling up slightly as he reached the waist band. His fingers hovered along the button, eyes lifting up to meet his brother's eyes in question.

Nodding almost imperceptibly Sam lashes fluttered closed, hips angling up against Dean’s body, info his fingers. Sam’s fingers curled into his brother’s hair, forcing his brother’s mouth down harder on the over-sensitive skin of his nipple. Sam was rapidly moving from _turned on_ to _over the edge_. He shifted under Dean, writhing like his skin was on fire; he murmured his brother’s name over and over. It was like Sam’s brain had disconnected from his body - he just knew _more, Dean, touch_. Panting and twisting he clawed at his brother's body, pulling, needing.

Trying to keep his fingers from shaking Dean slipped the button from its holding, dragging down the zipper and pulling back, up off the bed. He stood and tugged off Sam's shoes and socks, tossing them to the side before reaching up to curl his fingers under Sam's jeans and boxers, pulling down. When he stood again his eyes dragged slowly down the full length of Sam's exposed body. There was definitely no doubt that his brother had filled out in _every_ way. His cock was thick and full, a rich red, brushing up against his abs and smearing the faintest line of precome against smooth skin. Dean's tongue slid slowly across his lips as his hands fell to his own waist band, working at the material until he could step out of denim and cotton. "Sam," he said his brother's name shakily as he crawled back up between his open legs, fingers of his right hand sliding up his brother's leg until it could curl around the hip bone. Eyes shifting up, Dean leaned in and licked one long line up the underside of Sam's cock, swirling around the crown and dipping into the slit.

"Jesus… Chri…” Sam’s body jack-knifed up, his arms slipping down over Dean’s hair, then he fell back onto the mattress, the breath shooting out of his lungs. “Dean… I…“ lust raged through Sam’s body, his blood running thick and hot. He could feel his cock pulsing under his brother’s tongue. One touch, and Sam felt like he could come, felt the way he’d wanted his brother all those years. His hips pitched up off the bed again, hands grasping at his brother’s shoulders. He was desperate to feel dean's body, touch him, tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. "Dean..." his voice was soft, an almost growl and he tugged at his brother's arm trying to draw him further up his sweat-slick body.

Smirking softly, Dean crawled the rest of the way up to Sam's face, hissing as their hips dragged together and his cock brushed against Sam's. "You okay?" He asked around a slight pant, pressing his palm into the curve of Sam's jaw before leaning in and brushing their lips together. When he rolled his hips again a thick moan worked its way out his mouth and he deepened the kiss, thrusting his tongue forward into Sam's mouth. "God Sammy," he hissed against his brother's lips. "I want you... shit..." Dean sucked in deeply before closing their lips together once more. Every time his cock slid along Sam's he doubted his ability to stay in control, to keep from coming right on the spot.

Sam tried to speak, ended up giving his brother a half smile then lost himself in the moist heat of his brother’s mouth. He tore his mouth from Dean’s growling, rocking his hips up into his brother’s. Sam mouthed his way along Dean’s forehead, down his temple, dragged his tongue over the rough stubble on Dean’s cheek. Each touch, each taste of his brother sent jolts of pleasure straight to Sam’s hard shaft. Each rub of his sensitive cock against his brother’s ratcheted up Sam’s longing. Sam could feel his own hair, stuck to his damp cheeks and swept his tongue along the curve of Dean's ear, panting.

The only thing Dean knew for sure was that he needed Sam, somehow, more than what they had right now. Much more. "Sammy," he breathed and pulled back, slid down his brother's body once more with a trail of kisses. "Gotta tell me..." he breathed along the overheated skin, not stopping until he could bury his nose in the curls along the base of Sam's cock. He sucked along the flesh of Sam's balls, circling his tongue over the flesh. "What you want..." he ghosted his breath over the flesh, slipping up to suck just the head of Sam's cock between his lips, working the flesh along his lips.

“W..Want you… to...” Sam’s voice died in his throat as Dean’s mouth sank over his throbbing shaft. All the muscles in Sam’s abs tightened, fluttering at the touch, “want... youtofuckme…” the words came out smashed together in a sigh of breath. He’d wanted Dean since the night he left his brother so many years ago. Sam pushed up on his elbows, his arms shaking, "please..." he gasped.

"Shit," Dean gasped, whole body shuddering at the words. Hearing Sam say it was nearly too much. He clambered off the bed quickly. "Just a sec," he breathed out as he darted across the room as quickly as his raging erection would allow him, kneeling by his duffel bag to sort through and pulling out a bottle of lube and a condom. Not much made sense outsides the words 'fuck' and 'Sam' and 'please.' Dean stopped at the edge of the bed, gazing at the bright flush crawling across his brother's skin. Taking in several deep breaths, Dean tried to reign in his control before climbing back between his brother's legs. "Yeah Sammy," he finally whispered, settling between his brother's thighs and popping open the bottle of lube. "Mm gonna fuck you." He moaned, slathering the liquid along his finger before pulling the rich heat of Sam's cock between his lips once more, sliding his finger to the tight ring of muscle and circling softly.

Sam’s fingers curled over his brother’s shoulders, his grip bruising and strong. He could feel sweat beading on his forehead, his chest, the small of his back. He arched his neck up, watching the hard line of his cock disappearing past his brother’s wine-coloured lips. The muscles in his ass tensed at the liquid cool sensation then relaxed as Dean’s finger moved teasing, taunting. Dean's eyes were almost black, his pupils wide above his flushed cheeks. Sam had seen the look before, the naked want and lust; he'd seen it _before_. He licked his lips, pulling his a leg up onto the bed and letting it fall to the side. _Dean_ \- his mind was split, the feel of his cock sliding wet and slick along the pulsing of his brother's tongue; and the his brother's finger, pushing, teasing against his tight ring of muscle.

Dean had known Sam was going to be tight but the consuming heat that shot up his arm as he pressed one finger forward curled straight to his cock and made him moan around the flesh in his mouth. Just the idea of being buried in his brother had him pressing his finger in, all the way to the knuckle. Sam nearly shot off the bed and Dean's free had curled firmly around a defined hip bone, head dipping down to suck in more of the man's hard flesh. He worked the cool lube around inside tight muscle, twisting his finger in gentle, slow circles. His memory worked over time, wanting to remember every noise that left Sam's lips, every way his hips rolled up into his mouth, down onto his fingers. Sam was so deliciously wanton beneath him, Dean knew he was going to lose it, hopefully after he had a chance to slide between the tight muscle currently clenching around his finger. At the thought, Dean brought another finger forward against the muscle, sliding up Sam's cock with his lips so his eyes could track the emotions on his brother's face as he pushed the second digit forward.

It burned, ached, maybe even hurt – but Sam didn’t care; he just knew he wanted more. The way Dean’s hand fit over his hip, the heat of his torso between Sam’s legs, the heat of his mouth – Sam’s heart was pounding. His hand slid around Dean’s neck, he loved the way it fit there, “fuck…” His spine arched up, shoving his ass down against Dean’s fingers. “Dean…” he whispered his brother’s name, the intensity of his brother’s flesh against him almost too much. The burn in his ass faded away to pleasure as his brother’s slick fingers never stopped moving, sliding, _fucking_ into Sam - _ohgod_. He keened softly, wordless noises falling from his lips. Somewhere, vaguely in his mind Sam thought he should be doing more, something, touching his brother - but it was too hard to pull his thoughts away from the absolute _fucking_ hot sensation of Dean inside him, around him, over him.

Dean let Sam fall from his lips and used his tongue to drag up along his brother's flesh, finding it too hard to attempt any sucking action while scissoring his fingers to stretch Sam's tight muscles. His eyes burned from the force of keeping them open and turned up, just to watch the muscles in Sam's neck work as he swallowed rapidly. Or the way his lips parted, slipped together and opened once more. Dean was so hard his hips moved in tiny circles along the rough bedspread, the friction stung but was not near enough to give him the type of relief he wanted. His tongue stabbed into the sensitive flesh of Sam's balls, spearing along the skin as he shifted his hand, curled it together to add a third finger. "S'okay Sammy," he blew out the words along Sam's skin as his finger shoved roughly in to join the other two. He needed this to be done, needed Sam to be as prepared as possible so Dean could slid forward and take him like he wanted, more than he wanted anything else.

Sam was coming apart, “Dean…” he murmured, swallowing another cry, gooseflesh whipping across his chest as Dean’s breath skittered across his body. “W..Want… Dean, _God_.” Sam’s body was thrumming with need. He could feel Dean moving, feel the rocking of his brother's hips. Sam's leg flipped over his brother's waist, pulling him closer. Sam's shoulder pushed him up off the bed, his spine bowing into all the touches, the heat; his fist twisted the sheet beside his body, knuckles pale with the strength of his grip. "Enough..." he groaned, a growling sound deep in his chest, "enough..." the last word was a whisper, but more of a plea than a statement. He looked down, catching Dean's eyes, "please..." he whispered. He couldn't take much more, was surprised he'd made it this far; it was too long to wait for this, _too long_.

That was all it took for Dean to lose it. He crawled up Sam's body, kneeling between his legs and pulling his fingers from Sam's stretched muscles. His hand shook as he brought up the wrapped condom, snagging it between his teeth and tearing it open. His eyes drifted up to Sam's face as he brought the latex to his tip, sliding down. He could see the question there and he shrugged, "I've been safe but you never know. Bad time for this conversation but I'll get tested soon, then we won't have to worry okay?" He pulled in a shaky breath, palm hovering along the base of his cock before reaching for the bottle of lube again. When he was confident there was enough slathered along the latex, he hooked his hands under Sam's thighs and dragged his brother's legs up to his shoulders. "Ready?" He asked hoarsely, lining himself up.

Sam managed to huff out a slight laugh before wetting his lips, " _Jesus Christ_ , Dean look at me... what..." his breath stuttered in to his chest, "do you think?" He fell back against the bed, bottom lip sucked into his mouth, hand slapping at his face trying to push his damp hair out of his eyes. He shuffled closer to his brother, pushing his ass against the slick, condom covered head of his brother's cock; his hand ran down his body, moving in small circles on his belly as his hips twisted.

"Fuck Sammy..." he hissed and curled a hand tight along the base of his cock and locked eyes with Sam as he started his slide forward. Instantly the head of his cock was encased in too tight heat. It sucked him in further, pulled him in until he met the final restraints of pressure. "Gonna burn Sammy, give it a minute," he gasped, pulling back a little before shoving roughly forward, buried balls deep in his brother. "Holy..." his eyes snapped shut and he curled fingers tight around Sam's legs, using all his restraint to keep from moving. It was surreal, unbelievable, the best thing Dean had ever felt in his entire life.

“Shit...” Sam’s voice was thick, he wrapped his arms around Dean’s back, clinging, holding him as his body adjusted. It was a slow burn, an ache that spread out from Sam’s hips, down his legs. He stilled the only movement the heaving rise and fall of his chest as he gasped for breath. The muscles in his arms shook as he clung to his brother… “okay…” he murmured, hands sliding over Dean’s back, feeling the taut muscles of his brother’s back. Sam’s eyes closed, his lips parted as he puffed out a breath and he moved, rocking his hips slowly. Dean's cock was thick, hot, and Sam could feel it everywhere inside him, full, burning. But, his hips moved again, slowly, rolling against his brother's. Sam's fingers danced down his body, slipping over to Dean's hips, tugging gently.

There was no way he could resist moving any longer and Dean circled his hips, pulling back a few inches before sliding forward. His thighs shook with the effort of a slow pace but he repeated the small motion once more, testing Sam's comfort level. When his brother simply moaned in response Dean pulled all the way out and slid slick and heavy home, groaning his brother's name with the drag. "Fuck Sammy," he gasped, pulling out and rocking forward. "Gonna fuck you." The words came out like a hiss as he did just that, letting the tip of his cock fall almost all the way from Sam's tight muscles before he slammed forward roughly. His fingers tightened on Sam's skin and he panted roughly, sweat beading down his forward, trailing across his skin. "You like it Sammy? Like me buried in you?" Dean grunted as he picked up speed, leveraging Sam's hips up so he could slide deeper and hit Sam's prostate.

Sam cried out, moaning, breath escaping through his teeth. “Y..Yes…” he lurched up, hips thrusting back against his brother, “Yes, Dean… _Jesus_ … _Fuck_ ,” he heard his own words as they left his lips, desperate and deep. His head fell back, the long curve of his neck shuddering as his muscles moved to try and swallow down air. Pushing back against his brother’s cock, Sam‘s body was alive. With each thrust the burn became more like pleasure and Sam’s heart nearly stopped when Dean hit some… _place_ deep inside him… he shot up, curving his shoulders around his brother, clawing at his had back. “What… was...” He collapsed back again, writhing, his vision fading for a few moments. Sam's hand slid down his body again, curling around the base of his own shaft, squeezing tight, trying to push back the wave of pleasure that was uncoiling deep inside him. "Dean..." he moaned his brother's name, loving the way Dean's body shuddered at the sound.

"So good Sammy," Dean panted, rolling his hips as he shoved forward, slamming into the spot on repeat. Sam's muscles were rippling across his flesh with each thrust and Dean knew he wasn't going to last much longer. "Shit Sam... so close..." his hips were moving at a speed he didn't realize he was capable of. Every time his name fell from Sam's lips thick waves of pleasure coursed through him, setting his thrusts off pace, out of rhythm. When Dean's eyes fell open they locked with Sam's lust green glassy stare and Dean came, just like that. White hot bursts of pleasure exploded through him, blurred his vision even further as he emptied his load into his brother, fingers tightening painfully along Sam's skin. Sam's name fell from his lips in a heavy moan.

The way Dean's body shuddered, the feel of his cock throbbing and pulsing in Sam's tight ass; everything in Sam's body jolted, focused in on Dean's eyes. The muscles of Sam's legs tightened his orgasm curling through his body. As he came, his mouth fell open, his balls tightened painfully close to his body and he gasped. Hot release pulsed over his hand, his belly, ropes of cum shooting between them. Sam's hips stuttered against his brother's, his heart thumping against his chest wall. "Nhghhh," his voice was rough, thick, "Dean..." He collapsed under his brother, boneless, weak, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips.

"Yeah..." Dean released a steady puff of air as he fell down hard onto Sam's chest, the faint squish of Sam's come smearing between them. "God Sammy..." he buried his head in Sam's neck and lapped softly at the cooling sweat, letting the salty taste roll across his tongue. Dean's entire body hummed from his orgasm, skin tingling as his heart rate steadily dropped down to its normal rate. He'd never felt so _good_. It was intoxicating, as was every part of Sam, and Dean soaked it in like life giving liquid, eyes fluttering closed.

When Sam could finally move, which had he was _sure_ taken about three days, Sam grabbed his brother's shoulders and dragged him up crushing their lips together; his tongue thrust into Dean's mouth, salty, sweet, hot, _Dean_. Slowly, lazily, he moved his mouth against Dean's, licked along his brother's swollen lips, shaking as his body cooled.

Dean slipped from Sam, groaning into the kiss as they became two once more. He kept his lips against Sam's as he rolled them to their sides, slipping his arm between his brother and the mattress, twining their legs together so every inch of their bodies pressed together. Dean let their lips part with a small inhale of air and a gentle sigh. "That was..." there weren't any words to describe how Dean was feeling, the sheer level of the love he shared for the other man. Squeezing him tighter, Dean rested their foreheads together.

Sam nodded silently, unable to really put words together beyond what was running through his mind, "I... love you, Dean." He closed his eyes, the tiniest tendril of fear snaking around his heart.

Something pleasant and warm lurched through Dean, quickened his heart again and a warm smile tugged up his lips. "I love you too Sammy," he pressed a soft kiss to Sam's lips and shifted back into the pillow, holding Sam impossible close. Dean couldn't believe it had taken them eight years to get to this point but all that hardly mattered now. Having Sam in his arms, both falling into a post coital bliss, was worth all the ache those years had held. The smile on his lips still lingered as sleep began to tug at him.


End file.
